


Scattered Coals

by Yikes (CoralFlower)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Autistic Zuko (Avatar), Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Rape Aftermath, Zuko (Avatar) has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:36:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22138618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralFlower/pseuds/Yikes
Summary: Zuko can almost taste it. Can almost taste the red of sunset bleeding into his veins, the calm power of steady breath in his lungs as he stands to shed the cloth draped across his shoulders.Zuko and his alters accidentally save the world with Aang after an uncomfortable encounter with Captain Zhao drags Zuko, kicking and screaming, into "self" discovery.Written by an author with DID/OSDD. Main themes are recovery, communication, and corny humour.Read the warnings
Relationships: Eventual Sokka/Suki, Eventual Sokka/Zuko (Avatar) - Relationship, Zhao/Zuko (Avatar) (one-sided), gee sokka how come the author lets you have TWO partners, yes at the same time with consent
Comments: 153
Kudos: 648





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This will be a Zuko-and-his-alter(s)-centric multichapter fic.
> 
>  **Warnings** : Rape, Underage, Murder (of a rapist), Nonconsensual kiss, Intrusive incest thoughts
> 
> More specifically, Chapter 1 is a rape scene with dialogue and graphic descriptions of the victim's thoughts and emotions, but no mention of body parts below the belt. It is interrupted partway through by someone on the victim's side.
> 
> After Chapter 1 there will still be references to what happened, but nothing graphic anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1197 words

_Zuko can almost taste it. Can almost taste the red of sunset bleeding into his veins, the calm power of steady breath in his lungs as he stands to shed the cloth draped across his shoulders._

And he gasps, as Zhao surges forward, making his hands clutch at the cloth covering of his futon, making his breath unsteady, with the sun only a pale silver reflection in the moonlight streaming through the ship's window. Zuko shuts his eyes against the grey of reality and plunges himself deliberately back into fantasy, back into honor, back into his imagined Agni Kai, where he is free to burn as much of Zhao as he likes.

Breath tickles at his ear as the burn in his core grows so that he can't ignore it. And then Zhao is murmuring,

"Eyes open, Zuko. It could be worse. You could have refused my gracious offer and left my port without acquiring any supplies."

Zuko grits his teeth as Zhao's voice sends shivers like splinters screeching down his spine, and opens his eyes, reaching into the air with grasping fingers for fire, fire that he can't summon because he can't _breathe_ , not with the way Zhao is--

Everything feels hotter as Zuko steers his thoughts away from naming the deed. He feels like he's burning alive, like he's suffocating, and he can't get away, can't do anything about it because no one can no one _cares_ no one will help him. No one _ever_ helps him.

"I hate you," Zuko rasps, staring out the window at the moon, as if Agni's sister would ever give him aid. He wants the sun, but he's almost glad Agni isn't in the sky to witness this. This is his own shame, his own secret, his own fault.

Zhao moans, low and deep and drunk on his own power, and puts one sturdy hand on the side of Zuko's face to tilt it up, and then-- oh

Zuko chokes on nothing and tries to turn his face away from the wet warmth of lips against his, but Zhao's grip is strong and commanding and--

_burn burn burn, challenge him, any excuse will do, and then watch him SET with the sun once you take your revenge_

It's an unrealistic, impossible fantasy.

"Your defiance is intoxicating, Zuko--"

There's a knock at the door, and Zuko holds his breath. Zhao freezes, and only then does Zuko realise the rustling sound that had been made with each devastating thrust of Zhao's hips. He realises because the sound stops with Zhao.

"I'm going to give you exactly half a minute to explain," and that's his Uncle's voice, full of sword-steel and just as unyielding, and tears prick at Zuko's eyes, "just how you can still imagine yourself to have even a fragment of your honor left to you when you resort to _this_ to fulfill your desires."

Zuko blinks and the tears spill out and he _can't_ explain, can't hardly even string two words together in his mind, except for _I had no choice, what else should I have done? I'm responsible for my crew, Uncle. We need supplies, and no one in Zhao's port will even admit they have any for us to buy._

Zhao's hand presses over Zuko's mouth as he pulls away, and Zuko appreciates the help in holding that sound in, the sound that Zhao usually _delights_ in, because if _Uncle_ heard it drawn from him--

_Firebending comes from the breath, nephew._

As if he doesn't already know.

"I should take my leave, Prince Zuko," Zhao says, formal, loud enough to be heard well from outside the cabin. Zuko doesn't look at him, but he knows Zhao will be making himself presentable. He can't gather the focus to try and do the same.

"I begin to lose my patience," says Iroh from outside, and Zuko shuts his eyes and turns onto his side, hiding from what he knows is coming: the blast of hot air as Iroh convinces the hinges to bend, and then Iroh himself, looming into the cabin. Zuko can feel his flame, can imagine how it would feel as close as Zhao likes to get, can imagine it that close and rocking back and forth--

_ew ew ew ew no_ , Zuko tells himself, but his mind grabs hold of the idea and taunts him with it, making him cringe and then flinch when Iroh walks closer as if to carry it out.

Iroh pauses, and backs away, turning to face Zhao. Zuko still isn't looking, but he knows where the other two are, he can feel them. He doubts he'll ever breathe enough clean air to wipe the gritty, tainted feeling of Zhao's heartbeat from his own chi.

"Your actions tonight are not acceptable," Iroh says harshly, and Zuko flinches again.

"I know," he says-- _sobs_ \-- into the pillow he's hiding his face in. "I _know_."

There is silence. And then--

"I was not speaking to you, Prince Zuko."

_Oh._

But--

What?

"Prove it ever happened," Zhao challenges silkily, and Zuko feels the fiery flare of anger in his uncle's spirit.

"You seem to be forgetting," Iroh says, anger hidden beneath amusement like a frog-lion in a pile of dead leaves, "that I have slain dragons, Captain Zhao. I need not prove anything. You may have managed this tonight, but it will never happen a second time, I will see to that."

And Zuko _laughs_. Distantly, in a part of his mind completely detached from everything else going on, he realises he is still naked.

But it's just too funny.

He wants to forget. He wants this to be over. But he's too aware of every last shred of evidence. He's too aware of the disgustingly wet, sticky feeling between his legs, and the awful ache in his core that gets tugged on with each peal of hysterical laughter, and the imprint left in his spirit from each and every time this has happened. He can't forget.

"Nephew, are you well?"

Zuko stops laughing. It is abrupt, like breath stopping with a heartbeat.

"I thought you knew," he says, and his voice is strangled, overly formal but otherwise perfectly composed, and if he thinks too hard it doesn't even feel like he's the one speaking--

_You are not_ , responds Zuko's own mind.

_What._

_You did not say that. I did._

And then Zuko is faced with the rather peculiar sensation of being shoved farther back in his own mind as his train of thought is commandeered by something else.

"If I had known what Zhao intended tonight, I would not have--"

"Forgive my interruption, F-- Uncle," says Zuko's interrupter, using Zuko's mouth and Zuko's breath to say it. "I thought you knew about every time I have done this. Was I mistaken?"

And Zuko wonders, at the way this person cut himself off, the way he almost called uncle something else instead. 

Silence.

"Yes," Iroh breathes, and Zuko falls away from consciousness as his mouth begins to move, begins to say something without his intent:

"I thought you did not care whether..."

And then he is gone, leaving whoever that was to handle the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if any of this was unclear. I'm excited to post the next chapter! I've spent hours researching names (I have 40 tabs open for it - I counted) so that I could come up with a crew for Zuko's ship.
> 
> If this gets a good response I'll post the next chapter within a few days, but otherwise it might take around a week
> 
> edit i just woke up to 5 comments holy shit yall i wish i could update Right Now but i gotta do more proofreading and plot detangling first >:( ive got the stuff written i just gotta make it presentable lol


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aftermath. 2477 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings** : Aftermath of underage rape (including pain), brief mentions of possession, mention of STDs in a hypothetical sense
> 
> Alright! I've made a tumblr post outlining lots of important information that I was too lazy to type out with the last chapter.
> 
> So, if you aren't a system, or you don't know a lot about introjects, **you should read the post**.
> 
> [Here is the link.](https://coralflower-ao3.tumblr.com/post/190105150116/scattered-coals-ch-2-extended-authors-note-this)
> 
> If you don't wanna click that link, an introject is an alter based on a person, character, or (sometimes) object that (often) is important to the system, and Zuko has OSDD-1b in this so any gaps in his memory won't be due to alter activity. (this summary skips a lot of important details tho)
> 
> If you have any questions about my personal experience or systems in general that doesn't relate to this fic, please put them in the replies to that post or send an ask to my tumblr. I want to keep this fic's comment section focused on the story.

Zuko wakes up with the sun. For a moment everything is red, so red he can taste it, so red it feels like it could burn every last mistake away from his spirit.

He stirs, cracking his eyes open. He is alone in a bed on land, and every time he moves his torso, pain wraps a fist around his lower back, centering in-- oh. _Oh._

Zuko wants to cry. It happened again last night. He's so useless--

_You are not useless, Zuko._

What.

And then Zuko remembers the details of last night. Remembers Iroh interrupting. Remembers what happened after he lost consciousness, the way something piloted his body and spoke for him, and pulled clothes on over his nude skin after Uncle reached for Zhao's neck and seared a circle around it and that awful, tainted heartbeat stopped the way Zuko always wished he could make it--

_I am a person just like you, and I have been part of this life for a very long time._

"What are you saying," Zuko mutters. "Am I-- have I been taken over by a spirit? Who are you?"

The door opens, and Zuko flinches back, scrambling all the way to the opposite end of the bed and pressing himself up against the headboard.

"Oh," his Uncle says. "You're awake."

"I think I'm possessed," Zuko says, and he feels the spirit in his head get sort of frustrated. "There's-- Uncle, there's something in my mind talking to me."

His Uncle looks at him for a long moment.

_You are not possessed_ , says the spirit, measured panic conveyed with the thought. _The wrong healer could seriously screw us up if they find out, quit_ talking--

Zuko flinches, and can't resist the urge to mutter back,

"That's exactly what a spirit would say."

His Uncle's eyes widen very gently.

And the spirit shoves him out of the way again to speak with his mouth.

"I am not possessed," it says. "For as long as I can remember, I have simply gone through life with two people in my head instead of just one, and one of these people only found out about the other during the aftermath of last night's stress. This is just how I am. Do not be alarmed."

Zuko shoves his way back into his own mind and says,

"Stop _doing_ that, stop using my mouth to form your words and my air to voice them--"

And he stops, remembering Iroh is still in the room. 

"Well, nephew," Iroh says, "this is certainly a surprise, but it is nothing that would make me doubt what I know of your honor and ability. I came to see if you were awake, and offer tea. Would you like some?"

Zuko shakes his head, but feeling the relief and longing from the spirit in his mind makes him hesitate.

_Please?_

It does not shove him out of its way, but just leaves the decision to him.

"...Yes," Zuko says, changing his mind, because he can feel that, not only does the spirit love tea, it loves Iroh.

* * *

"I can tell that you are not the Zuko I typically face," Iroh muses from across the table. "Indeed, I can tell that I have met you before, looking back, though I would not have guessed you were different without being directly told. What is your name?"

A flurry of thought, and panic flashes across his face for just a moment.

"You can call me Adi."

_Why didn't you tell him your real name?_

And that's Zuko.

_I will not interrupt my father's grief with my pathetic pretenses at being his son,_ Lu Ten responds bitterly.

_You almost called him father, last night,_ Zuko says, and Lu Ten grits his teeth.

"What is wrong?" Iroh says. "More tea?"

Lu Ten nods, and sets his head in his hands.

"Zuko is being himself," he murmurs. "Do not misconstrue my complaints; I love him, and I want to make everything alright for him, but he has a habit of poking at the personal issues of others when encouraged to confront his own."

Lu Ten takes a sip of his tea as Iroh chuckles. He shuts his eyes. The taste makes him homesick.

"My nephew has been adrift for quite some time," Iroh says thoughtfully. "If you have been attempting to ease his burdens, you need not fear my contempt, Adi. If you would like, I would consider you my own son, the same as Zuko."

Lu Ten's hand shakes. He manages to still it, but not before Iroh sees.

"I..."

"The offer will always be open," Iroh says gently.

Lu Ten sets his teacup down, and folds his hands in front of him.

"I appreciate it very much," he says quietly. "You have a good heart. But I am not meant to be comforted or taken care of. It is not what I am for. Please focus on Zuko."

"I don't need to be taken care of either," Zuko grumbles, and just like that, he is back. Lu Ten is slipping away from his senses, back into whatever miasma of thought he came from, and he is alone in his own mind again.

"But it can be nice, anyway, sometimes, can it not?" Iroh says, not contradicting him. There is something strange about his voice. Zuko looks up to see tears in his eyes. "Forgive me. Adi reminds me very much of Lu Ten. When I look back and think of every time I have spoken to him in the past, unknowing-- even more so."

Zuko's face falls, and he does not know why.

"Adi isn't his real name," he says, voice taught.

"It is the name he gave me," Iroh says, with an air of finality. "You remind me of Lu Ten as well, Prince Zuko. It is there in the way you draw a dagger when we are undercover in the Earth Kingdom, and in what you choose to draw that dagger for. It is there in your silhouette against blazing flames. There are times-- frequent times-- when I look at you and see a man my son would be proud to call his cousin."

Zuko's mouth is open, and he can barely think past the shock.

Iroh continues,

"But when you speak, it is all you, and I value and admire that more than I can say. Perhaps that is why I have waited so long to say it. You show more strength of spirit in one sentence than I've seen in many of the men who have spent time under my command. I mean that, Prince Zuko."

"I'm not strong," Zuko says harshly, almost interrupting, weaving his words into the air less than a second after Iroh's finish ringing. "I let Zhao--"

And he stops, head snapping forwards to stare into his tea. Agni, he wishes he hadn't said that.

"You blame yourself for your enemy's evil," Iroh observes. Zuko's face burns. "Speaking of Zhao-- I should not have taken your revenge for you, nephew."

Zuko shudders.

"No, I... I'm glad. Killing him..." he swallows, and ducks his head. "Killing him myself would have felt-- too personal. Too intimate. But you didn't have to kill him."

Iroh raises an eyebrow.

"Didn't someone?"

"Not just for me," Zuko says, and the words leave his throat very roughly. 

"Do you think you are the only one he did this to?" Iroh asks, leaning forwards, and Zuko jerks back, blood turning to ice.

There were others. There could have been others. There must have been.

"Oh," Zuko says, and even his own voice suddenly feels very far away. "He said I was his favourite."

Zuko watches his uncle's fists clench.

"I should go to the spirit world and kill him again," Iroh hisses, and then the tension is leaving his body as he forces his fists to open.

Zuko relaxes.

"He isn't worth all that," he says, meaning _I'm not worth all that_ , and Iroh sighs.

"Your safety is worth anything to me, nephew."

Zuko doesn't have anything to say to that.

* * *

"We should return to the Wani," Iroh says, once he's finished his tea, and Zuko swallows. "Engineer Kouki has fixed the hinges on your door."

Zuko is reluctant. Every other time that this has happened, it happened on Zhao's turf. It has never happened on his own ship before. He is afraid to return to his cabin.

_Be strong_ , says Lu Ten. Zuko clenches his jaw, and nods.

"You're right," he says quietly. "We should keep heading South. I wasn't paying enough attention the last time we sailed these parts."

"Why not, nephew?"

Zuko grinds his teeth.

"Zhao," he bites out, turning the name into something much harsher than any curse word he's said before.

"Isn't it nice that he is dead," Iroh comments, tone almost as deadly as Zuko's own, and Zuko sighs, opening his fists and deliberately relaxing his jaw.

"Yes," Lu Ten admits for him, standing from their chair. "It is very nice."

"Never before have I so thoroughly understood what my father meant when he remarked on the immense comfort that one gains from killing one's enemies," Iroh says, standing too and beginning to gather up their things. "It certainly isn't appropriate in most cases--"

"Was it appropriate now?" Zuko interrupts, moving over to the glass to put his hair up. He feels human again as he does so. "How did you explain this to my father?"

"I didn't. I explained to Zhao's second in command that I had found him acting immorally and acted to stop him. People ask fewer questions when they are getting something they want, and the new Captain Chihori has been eyeing Zhao's position for some time now. She should be far more bearable."

"Oh," Zuko says. He isn't counting on it.

* * *

The ship is silent as they board. Zuko feels stared at. He does not shrink away from the attention.

His room is the same as it has always been, only the door hinges have been replaced and now look newer than everything else. Zuko forces himself to lay down on his futon, but shudders almost immediately. It's day, now, but the light from his window turns silver in his vision if he loses the razor-sharp focus keeping him grounded in the present. He put his futon here deliberately, so that he would wake up more energised each morning with the sunlight from his window, but...

Zuko gets up and drags his futon all the way over to the opposite side of the room, looks over his shoulder at the window, and then shoves the futon into the corner furthest from the door.

After more consideration, he moves his desk across the room as well, putting it beneath the window. It'll be more distracting to meditate while facing a source of sunlight, but that side of the room looked far too empty once he moved his futon.

Stupid Zhao.

A knock at the door. Zuko sits on his futon and extends his senses. It's Iroh.

"Come in."

Iroh looks around and opens his mouth as if to comment on the new layout, but Zuko glares at him desperately. He already feels weak enough for needing it.

Iroh does not say anything about it.

"Nephew," he says instead. "I have been thinking about what happened, and about what you confided in me this morning."

Then he pauses like he expects a response.

"Do you think I'm crazy," Zuko mutters, reaching back out with his senses to watch Iroh's inner flame closely. He needs to know the truth.

"No," Iroh says, and his flame stays steady as he says it without so much as a flicker. Not a lie, then. Zuko breathes a sigh of relief. "I know you will likely not want to see a healer."

Zuko feels Lu Ten come forward. He rests his head in his hands, and focuses very hard on thinking, _No, don't say anything._

Lu Ten seems distinctly put out about it.

"People talk," Zuko says shortly. "Healers are people."

"Ah, but if I found a healer in a location so remote that no gossip would ever leave her community to find its way back to the Fire Nation?"

Zuko looks up, interested and confused. Lu Ten is radiating wariness, and it makes Zuko nervous.

"Then how do you know about her?" Zuko says, eyes narrowed. 

"I have my ways," Iroh says.

"Where is she?"

"The North pole."

Zuko _glares_ , and despite his earlier request, Lu Ten shoves his way forwards.

"You want me to see a waterbender," he says.

Iroh's eyes narrow, and his head cocks to the side, but his tone remains the same when he speaks.

"Master Yugoda is the world's foremost expert in healing--"

"I am not broken," Lu Ten says. "A _waterbender_ will not heal me. The Northern water tribe will not even allow me to see her. You are being ridiculous."

"Is that Adi?" Iroh says, and Lu Ten clenches a fist. For some reason, the question makes him feel vulnerable and exposed. "If I can get us there, will you speak to her?"

Lu Ten shakes his head.

"Alright," Iroh says. He turns to leave, and Lu Ten sees disappointment on his face.

"Why?" he asks. Iroh turns back around.

"What do you mean?"

"Why should I see a healer?"

"There are illnesses," Iroh begins, and he is choosing his words very carefully, voice dry and detached. "That are conveyed by contact of the sort Zhao forced upon you."

And then Lu Ten is gone again, and it is only Zuko, sitting stock still and struggling to breathe.

_He's supposed to be out,_ Zuko thinks, desperate for an answer, but he does not receive one. _He's supposed to be gone and out of me, I don't understand._

"So a healer could fix that."

Iroh takes too long to respond, and Zuko narrows his eyes.

"Well, it depends on the illness. You may not even have one, but I would much prefer to check."

Zuko nods curtly.

"Fine. We'll do it."

"Shall I pass on orders to begin moving north instead, then?"

Zuko hesitates.

He wants to go north. He wants to escape this hellish polar summer that is only getting worse the further south they move. He wants to sleep full nights again.

But there's something in his spirit tugging him southwards. Something that whispers, _Do this first._

"No," he says. "We will continue south while we are here, and then... later. I'll need to convince L- Adi, anyway."

He can tell Iroh isn't pleased, but thankfully he gives in anyway.

"Alright," he says. "I hope that this does not prove a mistake, Prince Zuko."

* * *

A few weeks later, a flare of blue lights up the Southern sky, and Zuko feels something strange and jagged rising up within him. Zuko feels hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment if you like this please! ive got less than a week left of break so this is basically ur only chance for daily updates lol


	3. Propaganda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko captures the Avatar. 2584 words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on Kuzon.
> 
> I've read Embers by Vathara three times, and I'm on a fourth reread now. I can't stop reading it. It's kind of a problem, actually, because I can never remember what's canon in the show and what's canon in Embers.
> 
> So even though I know Zuko being Kuzon's great grandson isn't canon, I like that snippet way too much not to use it.
> 
> I love writing Aang. It's so refreshing. So I knew I had to get him into this fic as soon as possible.
> 
> Terminology note: fronting is what it's called when someone is in control of the body. When I'm in control, I'm fronting. When someone else is in control, they're fronting. "Front" is an abstract noun for the state of being in control of the body, and we talk about it like it's a place. If I'm in front, I'm fronting. If someone shoves me out of front, I am no longer fronting. If someone steals front, they are fronting, and they kicked someone else out to do so.
> 
> I want to emphasise that this is _not_ a portrayal of DID. This is a portrayal of OSDD-1b. In a DID system, it often takes a lot of work for alters to be able to carry out conversations in real time. I'm talking a matter of years.
> 
> My experience was totally different, because OSDD-1b is just very different from DID. As soon as we realised we were separate people, we started talking to each other. It was awesome. It was like...
> 
> Okay, imagine being in a workroom where everyone is working on different projects and none of you know you can talk. The person next to you is doing something ridiculous and you think it's ridiculous and you get the urge to roast them before you've even figured out what roasting them would look like. So you just keep going with your own project, alone.
> 
> And then suddenly you all figure out you can talk, and you can go, "CoralFlower, listen. The way you format dialogue right now is terrible. It is just terrible and unreadable and you need to stop. Please hit enter at least once during each fic, it's not going to kill you." Of course you're all going to talk to each other. You might not all get along, and there might be times you just don't feel like talking, but once you know you _can_ talk, you're gonna do it.
> 
> In our case we didn't know we could talk to each other because we didn't know we were an "each other" instead of a "myself" XD
> 
> Not everyone with OSDD-1b is like this. Different systems have different internal communication, and there is nothing wrong with that.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy.

_Drip_.

Zuko twitches, and the flames of his candles twitch with him.

 _That is really quite annoying,_ Lu Ten comments into the relative silence of Zuko's half-cleared mind, and Zuko lets out a sigh of frustration.

 _Drip_.

"It can't be helped right now," he murmurs. "Engineer Kouki is busy keeping our speed up enough to chase the light, and can't come fix the pipe."

 _Right, the light_ Lu Ten says. _How do you know that it is the Avatar?_

"How come you don't want to see a healer?" Zuko mutters.

_I simply feel that it would not be in our best interests._

Zuko sighs, frustrated, and flames come out his nose.

_Drip._

"I want to see a healer," he says. "I need to get rid of him, get him out, all the way out."

_Waterbending healers can mess with your mind._

"Uncle won't let anyone hurt us."

_How do you know he has the same definition of hurt as you do?_

_Drip_ , like the movement of Zhao's hips, incessant, inescapable. Zuko swallows, and guides his thoughts back on topic.

"I trust Uncle."

 _Should you?_ And that's a new voice, a horribly familiar one. _You've trusted so many people so generously, Zuko, and so many times, they've failed you. You trusted Mother and Lu Ten-- the real Lu Ten-- to be there forever. You trusted Father to understand why you interrupted. You trusted the Avatar to be real, and look where that's gotten you._

The candles flare a foot high before Zuko can bring the flames back down. He extinguishes them.

_Drip._

_Azula always lies,_ Lu Ten says cautiously. Zuko can feel his hurt at what this other person said.

_Oh, is that what you think of me, Zuzu? How sweet._

"Lu Ten is real," Zuko mumbles.

 _No, I am not,_ Lu Ten says. 

"Well she still shouldn't say that!" Zuko whispers harshly.

 _I'm right here, boys,_ Azula cuts in. _Wow, how much of it is you around here, and how much is what other people did to you?_

_Drip._

_What does that mean_ , Zuko asks her, finally giving up on speaking out loud; it just makes him feel way too crazy.

_Well, you've got Lulu since he was nice to you, and you have me because I'm mean to you. I wonder if you'll have anyone who was even worse?_

There's a sinking feeling in Zuko's stomach; he knows exactly who she means.

 _Do not say that_ , Lu Ten says.

 _I can say whatever I want!_ Azula protests. Zuko groans, frustrated, and lays down flat on his back on the floor. _Oooh, interesting pose, Zuzu! You're just begging for someone to do it again, aren't you?_

_Drip._

Zuko sits up and puts his head in his hands.

 _You are awful,_ Lu Ten observes.

 _I just don't want it to happen again!_ Azula snaps, and it's the mental equivalent of shouting. _You think I liked Zhao? No way! If we're going to get raped it should at least be by someone who's clean-shaven._

 _Drip._ She has to be joking. Right?

 _You are ridiculous and awful_, Lu Ten amends.

 _I don't want to get raped by anyone,_ Zuko puts in.

_Well, neither do I! So you have to make sure nobody can, okay, stupid? You should cut your hair, or at least tuck in the ends so they aren't just hanging loosely._

_Why do you even care so much, Azula?_ Lu Ten retorts. _I thought you loved it when Zuko got hurt._

_You think I love being able to remember everything he did to us? You're more stupid than I thought, Lulu._

_Drip_.

 _I'm sorry,_ Zuko says.

 _You should be!_ Azula snaps. _You're supposed to be strong! I'm supposed to be strong! And you let him ruin you, you let him ruin both of us, and it's all your fault, you shouldn't have let him--_

 _I had to,_ Zuko says. _The crew--_

_Can starve, Zuko. You're a prince, you shouldn't have to do anything like that just for them. You know they wouldn't do it for you._

_I'm a banished prince, Azula._

There's a wave of frustration from Azula, intense and unsettling, like the wind on the very top roof of the Southern Air Temple.

_Drip._

And then the irritation bleeds away, and all that's left--

 _You were supposed to protect me,_ Azula says. Her mental voice is very small. _Mom said you were supposed to protect me. You're my big brother. You're my only big brother, and I need you. You're supposed to keep me safe. You're supposed to not let anyone touch me._

All that's left is Zuko's baby sister.

_Azula--_

_But you did. You let him touch us, and he might still be in here, waiting to make us sick and kill us so we can't ever feel better. This is all your fault. I hate you._

_Drip._

Guilt settles in Zuko's stomach, more painful than anything Zhao ever did to him, and he shuts his eyes.

 _I'm sorry,_ he says, but there is no response. _Azula, please, I'm sorry._

 _Please stop apologising for getting raped,_ Lu Ten says. _She is being ridiculous._

_No. She's right. I should have stopped him._

_She did not do anything to stop him either,_ Lu Ten says. _If it is your fault at all, then it is her fault too._

_Drip._

Zuko doesn't agree, but he doesn't argue. Lu Ten makes their body take a deep breath, and then he pulls back a little bit, letting Zuko have some space to breathe as he asks,

_How do you know it is the Avatar?_

Zuko takes a deep breath, and ponders the question.

How _did_ he know?

_It felt... familiar. I saw the light and something-- there was something just outside my reach that recognised it. It's him, it has to be._

_I remain unconvinced_ , Lu Ten replies, and Zuko lets out another sigh through his nose, half amused and half exasperated. Lu Ten always talks that way, even when he is being kind.

_I guess you'll just have to trust me on this one, then._

_Drip_.

* * *

_You were right_.

Lu Ten has the gall to seem surprised. Zuko's glare deepens as he turns it on each of the Water Villagers in turn, and then finally faces the Avatar again.

A child.

Agni, what would Zhao have done if he had been the one to find--

_Zuko, do not think about that._

_Probably something terrible,_ and that's Azula, sounding positively gleeful. Zuko glares harder at the kid, as if that will make Azula shut up.

"What will it be, Avatar?"

The Avatar's face falls.

"I'll go with you."

The Water Tribe peasant lets out a squawk.

"What?!"

"Sokka, I'll be fine," says the Avatar. He looks to Zuko, who is still freaking out about the fact that the Avatar is a child, and says, "I'll be fine, right?"

"The Fire Lord wants you alive," Zuko says. The Avatar's back is straight, but Zuko would bet on the inside he's shuddering with fear. "You won't be harmed while you're on my ship. You have my word."

"Aang, you can't," Sokka protests. "Katara wouldn't want--"

"Enough of this," Zuko snaps, losing his patience. Agni, he wants to go home. "Hands behind your back, Avatar."

Zuko ties the Avatar's hands himself; he doesn't trust anyone else to do it properly.

And then they go.

* * *

Back on the Wani, Zuko puts his hand on the Avatar's shoulder to guide him to his cell personally. The airbender doesn't react, but Zuko feels like a sleazeball and hesitates, pulling his hand away and muttering,

"Sorry."

"It's okay!" the Avatar says brightly. "Say, I've never met a Fire Lord before! Why does he want to talk to me? Is he nice? My name is Aang, by the way, what's yours? Are you an ambassador?"

Zuko stares at the Avatar in disbelief. Iroh chuckles.

"Perhaps we can discuss your questions over tea," he says.

"Okay!" says the Avatar. "Only, it'll be kind of hard to drink any tea with my hands tied up like this. I understand if you guys are intimidated, since I'm the Avatar and all, but I'm an air nomad. We're peaceful! I don't like fighting."

The crewmen on deck stop bothering to pretend they aren't listening in, and everyone stares at the Avatar.

Zuko snorts, and speaks even though there's a growing feeling of wrongness within him, a feeling of _this isn't true_.

"The Air Nomads weren't peaceful," he says. "They attacked the Fire Nation ruthlessly. If it weren't for Fire Lord Sozin, we would've been halfway wiped out by the storms their military called down to rain floods upon our islands."

Zuko watches the Avatar's jaw drop.

"Well," he says uncertainly. "I guess... I mean, I _have_ been asleep for a hundred years. Maybe that's why, maybe they were looking for me-- but they wouldn't have hurt anyone! That's what we were taught! We have to value peace and life above everything else!"

Zuko's breath shakes as he pulls it in. Luckily, Iroh has something to say.

"There are islands in the Fire Nation where the storms carried rocks and shells miles inland, Avatar Aang. I believe Crewman Banka has seen them?"

The Crewman in question-- who has been pretending not to eavesdrop while he mops the same section of deck over and over again-- gives an exaggerated startle at being directly addressed, and looks up from his mopping to say,

"Yes, sir, there's shells in our fields-- salt, too, if you dig deep enough-- and none of the storms nowadays come even close to that far inland."

"Is that why there's a war?" Aang asks, voice quiet.

"Enough of this," Zuko grits out. "Captain Jee, tell Helmsman Hiame to set a course for the nearest port. We're wasting daylight."

"Well, wait," Aang says. "We're right by the Southern Air Temple. If you're at war with my people, I can go talk to them and get them to stop fighting!"

"Your people are dead," Zuko says, turning on his heel. He needs to meditate. "Fire Lord Sozin already ensured our safety."

Iroh puts his hand on Zuko's shoulder, and Zuko turns halfway towards the Avatar to see him sway unsteadily.

"My people-- what? They're--"

"Tea," Iroh says, and Zuko feels anger and irritation building up within him, building and building until--

Lu Ten blinks.

"Tea?"

There's a knowing glint in Iroh's eye as he nods.

"Yes, nephew. Our guest should not be forced to come to terms with this alone. Tea with two who have known loss will help."

"Our _guest_ is the only thing between me and home," Lu Ten says, feeling Zuko's irritation and channeling it in an attempt to appear less conspicuous. "If I have tea, I will not have tea with him."

Iroh holds his gaze. Disappointment. There's disappointment in Iroh's eyes. Lu Ten swallows, glances at the Avatar, and says,

"Fine."

* * *

Lu Ten's back is straight. The Avatar is slumped a bit, though, sitting cross-legged in front of the table across from Lu Ten. Iroh is making tea.

"So what's your name?" Aang asks conversationally.

"I am Zuko," Lu Ten says. "Son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai."

"Do you know anyone named Kuzon?"

Lu Ten raises his eyebrows. Across the room, Iroh chuckles.

"I am descended from at least two people with that name," Lu Ten says. "It is quite common."

"Well do you know anyone named Kuzon who was friends with an airbender?" the Avatar says, not seeming discouraged by the answer.

Lu Ten resists rolling his eyes.

"Well, hm," Iroh says, as though he actually has something to say. "Zuko never met his great grandfather, but I happened to speak with him on my search for the last dragon."

"The last--"

"Don't interrupt him," Zuko snaps, and Lu Ten nudges him back out of front.

"He told me quite the story of an airbender who helped him save a dragon's egg long ago."

"You knew Kuzon?" Aang exclaims, eyes wide. "Where is he? Can I talk to--"

"He died sixteen years ago," Iroh says. "And no, I did not know him. I spoke to him only once."

"Oh," Aang says, eyes downcast. "Anyway... About my people. How do you know they're all dead?"

Lu Ten sighs. Now that Zuko isn't around in his head, he feels bad for what he said on deck.

"I have been to all of the temples," he says.

The Avatar shakes his head.

"No," he says. "That's impossible. Only airbenders can get to the temples."

Lu Ten shrugs delicately, accepting his cup of tea from Iroh, and takes a sip. It's peppermint. Good choice; if he and Zuko want any chance of falling asleep tonight, they have to avoid caffeine.

"I have been to all four temples, and they were empty--" _No they weren't_ , Zuko thinks sharply. _The bodies--_ "--of all life, aside from the crawling vines."

_The Mechanist does not count._

The Avatar shudders.

"I have to check," he says, breathing in the steam rising from his tea. It seems to ground him back in the moment; he sets his jaw, straightens his shoulders, and looks up to meet Lu Ten's eyes. "Will you take me to the Southern Air Temple?"

 _No_ , Zuko says. _We should hurry back home._

Lu Ten, however, is remembering what Iroh said a few weeks ago about seeing a healer. There are no healers at the Southern Air Temple. And the longer they stay in the South, the longer it will take to go North again. Lu Ten feels that it is in his and Zuko's best interests to stay as far from the North Pole as possible for as long as they can.

"Well..."

"Please?"

 _I guess I did get most of the bodies cleaned up last time,_ Zuko concedes. _And if I tell him how many of our soldiers died defending us, he might stop protesting the truth._

"Alright. We will visit the Southern Air Temple."

There's a knock at the door.

Iroh heaves a sigh, and answers it.

"Sir. Towerman Souka has spotted some kind of flying creature heading for our ship."

"Appa!" the Avatar exclaims. He stands so fast that Lu Ten almost gets whiplash watching, and takes a deep, centering breath, with his eyes closed. Then, he-- he yanks his wrists apart, breaking the rope that Zuko tied so securely, and that's it, fuck Lu Ten's tea, Zuko's taking over here.

He gives chase as the Avatar runs from the room, making sure to keep his breath steady as he runs.

"Avatar!"

He sends a blast of fire straight at the Avatar's head, and Aang ducks, stopping in his tracks to level an indignant look at Zuko.

"Yipe! What was that for?"

"You said you would come with us, Avatar," Zuko says, advancing. "Are you going back on your promise?"

"What?" Aang says. "No! I just figured you don't want Appa landing on your ship, right?"

"What's an Appa?"

"My flying bison!" Aang says. "He's very heavy, I was just going to glide up to him and ask him to follow us to the Southern Air Temple!"

Somehow the child's voice is bright and happy again.

There's a crash from the deck, and then a creaking sound.

"Too late," Zuko says, through clenched teeth.

"I'll go tell him to get off the ship!" Aang announces, and then he's off again.

Zuko follows, cursing every spirit he can think of as he chases the Avatar through his ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't planning to reveal Azula until _waaaay_ later at the North Pole after tons of other stuff happened, but... She insisted. Lol.
> 
> That's three for three as far as daily updates go!! Y'all gotta comment if you want me to keep it up tho


	4. Noodles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3430 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first week back at college has been great! I'm going to try for weekly updates, I think.
> 
> More fire nation propaganda in this chapter.
> 
> Also, I figure now is as good a time as any to give the meanings of the names I've picked for this fic so far.
> 
> Hiame, the helmsman Zuko mentions in chapter 2 - 灯雨 light rain  
> Souka, the towerman (lookout) who spotted Appa - 湊歌 harbor song  
> Chihori, Zhao's second in command who took over his position - 千帆理 thousand sail management  
> Kouki, the engineer who fixed Zuko's hinges - 鋼樹 steel tree (the only woman's name I could find that contains the kanji for iron or steel)  
> Banka, the crewman who told Aang about the shells - 晩夏 night summer  
> Adi means firstborn son.
> 
> I have an enourmous list of Japanese names that I'm going to be using to name the scores of Fire Nation OCs in this fic. Hooray. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

There are two Water Tribe peasants, a huge, furry animal, and a child Avatar on the deck of Zuko's ship. Zuko grinds his teeth and steps out of the bridge.

"What's going on?" he demands. The Water Tribe boy takes one look at him and bursts out laughing. Zuko bristles. "What are you doing on my ship?"

"Aang, you'd rather stay with this tassel-headed fire jerk than come with us on Appa? Are you serious?"

"His name is Zuko," Aang says. He sounds sort of annoyed. "And he's not just some fire jerk, he's the great grandson of my friend Kuzon!"

"The Avatar has promised to come with me and my crew to meet Fire Lord Ozai," Zuko snaps. "Get off my ship. Go away."

The girl Water Peasant sticks her tongue out at him, and Zuko sees red. His fists clench.

"Prince Zuko!" Iroh says, hurrying out of the bridge. "Your tea is going to get-- oh. More guests, nephew?"

Zuko shuts his eyes and begins to count to ten, taking deep, steady breaths the way he's always done when he's angry, ever since Zhao started-- ever since he learned the importance of proper breath control.

He only gets to three.

"We aren't guests!" the Water Tribe girl bursts out. "And neither is Aang--"

"If the Avatar weren't my guest he'd be in far worse shape," Zuko says through grit teeth. "Believe me, you'd much rather be guests."

"Look, _buddy_ ," and that's the boy, poking the end of something surprisingly sharp at Zuko's collar, way too close-- how did he get that close, how did Zuko not notice-- "If you think you can threaten my sister--"

And everything is too much, it is just too much all of a sudden.

 _Kill him kill him kill him,_ Azula begins chanting, and she does not stop. 

Zuko grabs the boy's wrist and twists the skin, getting him to flinch back so that Zuko can disengage without cutting himself on the surprisingly dangerous peasant spear. And then-- it's not running, it's walking with purpose, the purpose being to get somewhere else.

_No what are you DOING get back there and KILL him--_

_It is honestly sort of nice to be able to run,_ Lu Ten muses.

Zuko's boots make a firm sound on the metal with each step and he lets the rhythm sweep him away as he flees.

* * *

He comes back to himself in the engine room. He doesn't really remember much about running besides brief flashes and discomfort, and he knows later he'll kick himself for letting the Avatar get away, but for now he just needs to sit somewhere with a lot of fire and feel safe for a little while.

Just a little while, that's all.

 _You should have killed him for touching you_.

"Prrp."

"Hey, Noodles," Zuko mumbles, holding out his hand for the cat-fox to rub up against. "I hate--" he shudders-- "the Water Tribe. I can't feel them, they don't have fire like we do."

_Why didn't you kill him?_

Noodles is purring, shoving her head into his hand and pretty much having a great time. It makes Zuko smile.

_What is that? Why is it making that sound?_

_She is purring, Azula. She likes Zuko,_ Lu Ten explains with far more patience than Zuko has ever had in his entire life; Zuko can tell very clearly that Azula knows exactly what a cat-fox is, and she is only asking to demonstrate her contempt.

_I want to make her purr! She should like me too. And Zuko should stop being a baby and go back on deck and kill that peasant._

"He shouldn't have gotten so close," Zuko says, remembering how sudden it was, how abruptly he felt body heat. It feels gross to remember, and he shudders again. "I shouldn't have let him."

"What's this I hear about the Water Tribe?"

Zuko flinches. Right. Engine room. Engineer Kouki. He should've remembered; the heat of the engine makes it harder to feel other people around.

Engineer Kouki comes around from the other side of the boiler, and Zuko sighs.

"They're annoying."

"You got that right, kid."

Zuko glares up at her and stands. Noodles protests with a _Mrrr_.

"Watch what you call me. I'm not a child. I'm--"

"Disrespect is how I got here, _sir_ ," she says, and ugh, _ugh_ , now Zuko's pissed off his engineer. He needs to go lock himself somewhere he can be alone and not screw anything up by opening his stupid mouth and saying stupid words.

Zuko leaves the engine room. Noodles follows him.

* * *

He heard voices from the tea room on his way to his own cabin, but--

His lap is full of warm, purring cat-fox and he just doesn't care about anything else.

And his door is shut, so there's nothing anyone can say about it.

"You're a good kitty, aren't you," he coos, scratching her under the chin. She shoves her way close to his face and _purrs_ , loud and warm and totally different from a spear point pressing against his neck. It's nice. "Good girl Noodles, sweet noodley baby."

She licks his nose, and he giggles.

And he just sits there for a while, petting her, until the weight of his responsibilities settles back onto his shoulders. 

"Bye-bye, Noodles," he murmurs, setting her gently on the floor. She follows him out of his cabin and down the hall. "I said goodbye. Stupid cat-fox."

"Prince Zuko, is that you?"

Zuko rolls his eyes and calls,

"Yes, Uncle. Noodles won't leave me alone."

"Well, bring her in!" Iroh says, peeking around the doorframe of his tea-room-cabin-thing. "We're having tea. The more the merrier, and you left yours to get cold earlier."

"No, don't invite the jerkhead," the Water Tribe boy complains, and Zuko kind of wants to annoy him, so he lifts Noodles up and carries her in.

It's a surreal situation. The Water Tribe kids are blue against the red and black of Zuko's ship, and it feels wrong. He can barely even tell they're there.

Iroh pours him some tea, and Lu Ten muscles his way into front to take a sip.

"Thank you."

"Oh, so he does have manners," the girl mumbles.

"Typically, mannerly people at least introduce themselves before making snide comments," Azula comments snidely. "I'll start. I'm Zuko, son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai--"

"You're the Fire Lord's son?" the boy exclaims. "Damn, I hope the cowardliness runs in the family."

"What." And that's Zuko, back in front. Lu Ten gives him a frustrated nudge, not wanting his tea to get left cold again.

"Oh, nothing," says the boy in a tone of voice that suggests that it isn't nothing. "Only, you ran away earlier. What's wrong, never been in a real fight before?"

Zuko's hand twitches on the table. He clenches it into a fist and then forces himself to relax, petting Noodles instead of strangling the boy across from him the way he wants to.

 _They don't know anything_ , Azula reminds him. _They're just stupid, uncivilized peasants and they have nothing to offer you. You don't even owe them the most basic respect. This is just to placate the Avatar. Be friendly with his friends, and he'll stay with you._

That helps.

"I don't have to defend myself to you," Zuko says. "Are you ever going to introduce yourselves?"

"I'm Sokka," the boy says. "This is Katara."

"I guess it's a good thing only the Avatar is staying, then," Zuko mutters.

"What do you mean?" Sokka asks.

"We have a crewman named Souka."

"Yeah!" Aang pipes up. "Did you know--" his face falls. "Um, the Air Nomads made storms when they were looking for me, and that's why the Fire Nation had to fight them. Souka told me about the shells that got washed inland by the water. So we're going to the Southern Air Temple now so I can tell the monks that I'm alive so they will stop fighting and go back to being peaceful and kind!"

"Aang, the monks are dead," Sokka says. "Ow! Hey! Kataraaaaa!"

"That was Banka," Zuko says. "You haven't met Souka."

The Avatar ignores Zuko, son of the Fire Lord, in favour of responding to the Water Tribe peasant.

"You don't know that," he says. "They could be hiding."

"They're dead," Zuko says harshly. "I told you, I've _been_ to the temples, I've _seen_ the--"

"Zuko," Iroh says placidly. Zuko takes a breath, and surveys his audience. The Water Tribe boy is gaping at him, the girl is glaring, and Aang is downcast, staring into his tea with a melancholy air.

"Seen the what?" Sokka says.

Zuko breathes in, holds it for a moment, and then lets it out.

"The bodies."

"Ah, but think, Prince Zuko. How many Air Nomad bodies did you see, compared to those of fire?"

Zuko frowns thoughtfully.

"Why does it _matter?_ " Katara gasps, slamming her hands on the table. Zuko's tea splashes up out of his cup and onto his face. A little bit of it splashes onto Noodles, who makes a complaining sound.

Zuko glares at the waterbending child across the table from him. Uncle hands him a towel.

"The raids killed far more Fire Nation soldiers than Air Nomads, _Katara_ ," he snaps, wiping his face off roughly and then tossing the towel onto the table with more force than is strictly necessary.

She flinches back, and her brother leans forward menacingly.

"Get my sister's name out of your mouth."

"Get it yourself," Zuko retorts, baring his teeth. "Sokka."

There's a brief silent moment where everyone processes what he just said, and then Zuko has to choose between fleeing the room in shame and standing his ground.

_Oh, that was hilarious!_

He stands his ground, even though Azula is cackling internally at him.

"Whatever, _Zuko_ ," the brother says, but he looks about as embarrassed as Zuko feels, so Zuko counts it as a win.

"Anyway. You're not going to believe me. We're going to get to the temple and it's going to be clean _because I cleaned it_ and you're going to say, _What happened to all those bodies Zuko was talking about? There's only Air Nomad skeletons here!_ and you're going to think I'm a liar because I took care of my people, because I'm a loyal Prince of the Fire Nation. I don't know why I even bothered saying anything."

"You cleaned the temple?" the Avatar says, and Zuko stops short.

"I couldn't leave their bodies there," he says. "I'm the first person to ever get an accurate count of how many we lost to just one of the temples. It was worse than the storms."

"Right, you mean the storms that didn't actually happen and were made up as an excuse," says Water Girl.

"Were you alive a hundred years ago, Katara?"

"Were _you?_ " she retorts. "I can't believe your warriors didn't just care for their dead in the first place. That's horrible!"

"I know," Zuko says quietly. "You think I don't know how horrible it was? You have _no idea_ how many restless ghosts I had to placate the last time I was there."

"I don't care about your stupid Fire Nation ghosts," Katara says.

"You should," Zuko says, leaning forward and glaring into blue eyes. "You're about to visit a temple full of them."

"Are they dangerous?" Aang asks, and Zuko sighs, turning to look at him instead.

"Yes," he says. "They can be, if we don't respect them."

"I have no respect for a bunch of murderers," Katara snaps, crossing her arms. "They were attacking the temples, they deserved what they got."

"Are you even listening?" Zuko says, trying to keep his tone under control. "There were more Fire Nation bodies than Air Nomad bodies. There weren't enough dead Nomads for all of those soldiers to have killed one! And we attacked the temples in self-defense! They were trying to wipe us out with hurricanes!"

"Katara, stop for a second," says the brother. "Listen, your princelyness, I get that you can list a bunch of reasons your Nation of jerks totally super-legitimately for real had to wipe out the Air Nomads, but you can't just pretend there weren't women and children living in those temples too."

Zuko lifts his chin and says,

"None of those skeletons were child-sized."

"Okay, then, the women--"

"What? What's wrong with killing a woman, if she's your enemy? It doesn't matter who's holding a knife--"

"Prince Zuko," says Uncle. "I know you know that in the Water Tribes, women do not fight."

Zuko stops short, and leans back.

"I forgot about that," he mumbles, feeling like an idiot. "Okay, yeah, killing civilians is bad. Duh. Everyone knows that. Although you'd think any truly civilised culture wouldn't leave its women vulnerable like that--"

"You could've fooled me," Sokka says. "You threatened my entire village!"

"Because I didn't want to hurt any of them!" Zuko exclaims. "And it worked! Are you telling me you would've wanted one of those children huddled up by their mothers to charge me just like you did?"

Sokka opens his mouth, and then closes it.

"I don't _like_ hurting people," Zuko says. He feels exhausted. "I don't like _killing_. I'm not a ruthless, bloodthirsty terror or whatever you've been told about firebenders. It's not like any of you except the Avatar have even met a firebender before in your little _tribal settlement_."

Katara starts laughing. Zuko stares at her for a moment. She's laughing the way he did the night Iroh found out, the last night of Zhao's life. She's laughing the way he laughed when Iroh said it would never happen a second time, even though the second time had already happened years ago. She's laughing like it's the only thing she can do besides cry.

"Oh, no," Sokka says. "Katara--"

"Oh, I've met a firebender," Katara says viciously, slamming both hands flat on the table and completely dousing Zuko in everyone's remaining tea. ( _Great, airbender backwash,_ Azula comments.) Noodles rockets out of his lap with a shriek. "I've met enough firebenders to know _exactly_ what you're like, you awful, careless, _selfish_ destroyer!"

"I'm not _Azula_ ," Zuko says reflexively, and then he feels stupid.

_Idiot, she doesn't even know who I am._

"That isn't a very nice thing to say about your sister," Uncle says.

"Ugh!" says the waterbender, putting her hands in her lap and glaring at Zuko. He shivers. "I'm right here! Listen to me! I'm not letting you and your shipful of murderers take Aang. I'm not letting you teach him how to kill people's mothers!"

The tea. She's freezing the tea. Zuko breathes in deeply, stoking his inner flame, and then lets it out, calm, controlled. It only slows the freezing; she must be very angry. There's not enough tea to impede his movement, so it freezes in little shards on his skin.

"I'm staying here," Aang says, and Katara turns to him. The cold on Zuko's skin lessens. Aang cowers for just a moment, and then straightens his shoulders. "I'm staying here, Katara. I gave my word that I would go with Prince Zuko to meet the Fire Lord."

The girl's shoulders slump.

"Aang, you don't understand," she says.

"I'm sorry, Katara."

The waterbender turns her glare back on Zuko and puts her hands on the table again. This time, there is no tea left for her to splash in his face. She leans forward, glares even harder, and says,

"If you hurt him..."

"I won't," Zuko says. "I keep my word."

"Whatever," she says. "Sokka, come on. I guess we'll have to find another way to get to the North Pole, since Aang doesn't want to master the elements anymore."

Zuko frowns.

"What?" Aang says. "Katara-- Katara, that's not-- I can learn the other elements after I meet the Fire Lord!"

"No, you can't," Katara says, voice held carefully steady. "You can't learn how to waterbend if you're dead."

"I'm not going to die!"

"Wait," Zuko says. "You don't know _any_ of the other elements yet?"

Aang smiles nervously.

"Well, no," he says. "I've only known I was the Avatar for less than a week, anyway, if you don't count the time I spent sleeping."

Zuko's mouth drops open, and then he puts on an annoyed expression and pinches the bridge of his nose.

 _You have got to be kidding me,_ Azula says.

"Okay, then you'll have to at least learn one other element before you meet the Fire Lord. You have to be able to prove that you're actually the Avatar, otherwise--"

He cuts himself off as Azula's laughter rings in his head.

"Oh," Aang says. "Okay! Then can we go to the North Pole after we visit the temple? Katara and me were gonna go there anyway to find a waterbending teacher!"

 _Absolutely not_ , Lu Ten says.

"Absolutely not," Zuko says. "It would be much easier to find you a firebending teacher, and my Father will be insulted if you show up without knowing our element."

Zuko knows this fact intimately; you don't ask Father for anything unless you've progressed in your studies.

Uncle clears his throat.

"Prince Zuko, I am afraid that will not work. The Avatar is to learn each element in order, starting with air, then water, then earth, and finally fire."

Zuko's fists clench.

"Katara," he says. "Can you teach the Avatar waterbending?"

"That was the plan!" Aang says

"Great--"

"No," Katara says. "I'm not a waterbending master. I only know what I've taught myself, I have no idea how to teach somebody else."

"Are you sure I have to learn _all_ the elements before I talk to your dad?" Aang says, and Zuko grinds his teeth. "Will he really be that annoyed if I don't know how to firebend?"

"That depends," Zuko says. "Do you want to meet him and stop the war, or do you want to waltz into his palace with very little warning and demonstrate how little respect you have for the people of my nation?"

Aang's face falls.

"But how will I find a waterbending master without going to the North Pole?"

Zuko grits his teeth.

"Nephew," Iroh begins. "Would it not be prudent to provide the Avatar safe passage to the North Pole?"

"I'll think about it," Zuko says. He catches the waterbender rolling her eyes, but he doesn't bother saying anything. There's no point. "In the meantime, Avatar, get your bison off my ship."

"Hey now," says Sokka, and Zuko glares at him. "There's no way Katara and I are staying on your Fire Nation ship. We'll go on Appa--"

"I'm staying with Aang," Katara says, and ugh, why does this all have to be so tedious? What is _wrong_ with these peasants? Do they not understand the value of efficiency?

"I don't care how many Water Tribe peasants do or do not fly away with the bison," Azula snaps. "I want that bison off of this ship within the next five minutes. If it remains on the ship, I will remove it myself. We promised safe passage to the _Avatar_ , not the Avatar's pet."

"He's my animal companion," Aang grumbles. "Why are you being so mean all of a sudden?"

"Because he's Fire Nation, Aang," Katara says. "That's just how he is. Thanks for the tea."

"You are quite welcome," Uncle says, and Azula resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Zuko, if Katara intends to stay, she will need a cabin."

"I don't know why she's so determined to stay in the first place. I mean, does she not trust me?"

It's a joke. Azula is obviously quite aware of the distrust radiating off the little waterbender.

"Why would I ever trust--"

"Katara," Sokka says. "Stop, okay? Will you be alright on this ship alone?"

"She's not going to be alone," Aang pipes up, and Sokka shushes him. 

"I'll be fine," Katara says. "Will you be okay on Appa alone?"

Sokka shrugs.

"I mean, sure. I am gonna land right back on the ship if there's any funny business, though, okay Mister Ponytail?"

Azula fails to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"Sure thing, Mister Ponytail."

"Hey! This is not a ponytail, it's a warrior's--"

"Shouldn't you be getting the bison off my ship?" Azula says sweetly. Sokka looks mildly creeped out.

"Yeah, whatever, I'll go do that," he grumbles.

"I'll go with you!" says Aang.

And because Azula isn't completely incompetent, she follows them to make sure there won't be any "funny business," to quote the Water Tribe barbarian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you enjoyed please! Next chapter in a week.


	5. Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2794 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this took me forever to actually post :/ sorry lol.
> 
> proverbs in this chapter are from [here](https://www.ltl-shanghai.com/chinese-proverbs/#chapter-4)
> 
> i made up a whooole bunch of stuff abt firebending in this chapter
> 
> anyway, enjoy! this might seem like filler but i promise it's important
> 
> there's gonna be a lot of chapters that'll seem like filler to some of you, but thats cus im prioritising character interactions over plot development. aka, people will spend a lot of time talking to each other, and even when they end up doing things, they'll keep talking to each other throughout.
> 
> this is primarily a fic about recovery. the main focus is zuko&co, and the world getting saved in the background is gonna be more of a secondary thing. i'll tolerate plot-holes in the world-saving plotline, but not in anything relating to character development for zuko & his alters

After the bison leaves, the Avatar and Katara are escorted to secure cabins right beside one another-- small though the Wani is, there aren't nearly as many crew members or officers as there should be. With the prisoners taken care of, Azula sits in Zuko's cabin with pen and paper.

She is alone in Zuko's mind, so she may as well make use of the time to get a few things out of the way.

First off, she needs a name. Oh, she already has one, but she'd like another, to give to their Uncle when he realises she exists, because sooner or later, he will realise. One of the others will tell him on accident regardless of how careful she is to pass as either one of them-- though, that's tedious, and she doesn't intend to make much of an effort to do so. Agni knows she didn't bother with it today.

Kousei is a man's name in the fire nation, but it means blue light, which seems perfect for her until she realises the Avatar gave off blue light when he awoke. Nevermind. Kousei is a horrible name.

Ouki, meaning firebird princess, wouldn't be too bad, but Azula feels like she deserves better. Not only that, but she should be able to come up with something better than a corny name that sounds like an Earth Kingdom toddler naming the tree outside its window; Oaky.

The problem is mainly that she can't think of any names she's ever heard of that can mean blue fire. That's what she wants to name herself, because she's proud of it and it makes her special, makes her worthy of attention.

But--

Hm.

Can she even form the blue flames she's supposed to? She doesn't even know what they're meant to look like, because she's never seen them; she only knows she's supposed to have them because, well, people talk, and as soon as she-- as soon as Zuko's sister figured it out, the gossip began spreading.

So can she make her fire blue?

Azula tries.

Orange and pathetic.

She tries again.

Orange and inadequate.

She tries a third time.

Orange and _sad_.

A strange dread begins to settle in her mind, before she shoves it all back out and replaces it with numbness. She will try once more, and if it does not work this time, well...

Orange. Again. Ugh.

* * *

"Uncle?"

The door opens, and Iroh ushers her in. She can tell he knows something is different, but she doesn't have the time or patience to deal with his smugness right now.

He'll probably get even more smug when she asks, but-- there is nothing shameful about using the available resources to excel. Azula _refuses_ to be ashamed.

"It is good to see you, nephew," he says. "Can I assume you aren't here to play Pai Sho?"

Azula rolls her eyes, and straightens her back, staring her uncle down and trying to communicate her determination solely through body language.

"Uncle," she says. "How do I make my fire blue?"

He looks surprised. This, Azula notes as she watches his reaction, the way his eyebrows furrow slightly and his eyes widen.

"Be not afraid of growing slowly, nephew," he says. "Be afraid of standing still."

Azula narrows her eyes. So he wants to play that game? Quote proverbs at her instead of saying what he truly means? Alright. She can do it too. She's _good_ at it.

What would apply here? _He who asks a question is a fool for five minutes; he who does not ask a question remains a fool forever._

"Would you have me remain a fool forever, Uncle?" she says, and Iroh's eyes widen further.

"Learning to run takes far longer than five minutes," he says.

Oh, typical. _Learn to walk before you run._ Azula almost laughs.

"Open the door, and I will enter, whether by walking or running," she counters.

There's a brief, tense moment of silence, and then Iroh nods his head in acquiescence. _Teachers open the doors, you enter by yourself._ Azula lets herself smirk; of course Uncle would be convinced by that; by the implication that his nephew respects him as a teacher. How sentimental. How pathetic.

"A fire burns blue when it is very, very hot," Iroh says. "To make your fire hotter, you _must_ breathe. Do not ask me again until you have mastered your breath."

Azula frowns. Perhaps he needs more convincing.

"Do you mean to sabotage me, Uncle?" she says, making her voice predatory as she cocks her head to the side just so. "Earlier, with that nonsense about the order of the elements, and now, refusing to--"

Uncle's eyes narrow, and despite herself, Azula stammers, and stops speaking. She notices that his inner flame has flared, and is now fluttering like the strings of an erhu; even, rhythmic, quick enough that it reads more as a sound than a sight.

"All blame is a waste of time, nephew. No matter how much fault you find with another, and regardless of how much you blame him, it will not change you."

She can only manage to stand there, motionless, for a few moments before she has to leave, eyes stinging, chest aching in this very strange way that she isn't used to at all.

* * *

"It's all Zuko's fault," Azula whispers, back in the privacy of their cabin. "It _is_."

No one in her mind does her the courtesy of responding.

Alright. Breathe.

Azula sets out three candles on the desk and lights them. She does not close her eyes the way Zuko usually does, because she is afraid of ~~who~~ what she will imagine.

She can feel the flames, like three heartbeats, pulsing in front of her.

Azula breathes.

* * *

_What are you doing?_

The sun has dipped down to flirt with the horizon. Soon, it will slide below the infinite waves outside her window, and Azula will be no closer to her objective, no nearer to--

_Oh, I see. Breathe._

Right. Breathe. It doesn't even occur to her to tell Lulu off for interrupting; she is too busy. Too focused. She is breathing.

The candles have burned low, just like the sun, and she is not sure if she or Zuko or anyone within them has ever meditated for this long before. Zuko always quickly loses his patience, but she gets lost in it. Why?

Perhaps it's because she wants to. She likes to lose herself. She does not mind getting lost in the gorgeous simplicity of breath, of in-hold-out-pause repeated into infinity.

Azula keeps breathing.

* * *

There is a knock at Azula's door. Her candles have gone out, but she has continued, because even though the sun is gone there is still a flame within her, and she can center in that, watch its pulsing line up with her heartbeat, feel the way it jumps and flickers with her breath, and sometimes, when she does it right, the way it seems to just sit, calm and still, until she inevitably gets too excited and loses it.

She has it now, and she has had it for longer than usual, three entire, achingly wonderful heartbeats of steady, barely shivering inner flame, and she is perfectly lost, perfectly gone, and comfortable with it.

Another knock. Azula's inner flame shivers, and despair surges like a knife in her heart as the steadiness begins to slip away.

Vaguely, she can feel Zuko in her mind, and it makes her angry. She loses her control, loses her focus, and then she finds herself in their cabin, sitting on aching knees in front of a table with three burnt-down candles on it. She blinks. There is a flame outside their door-- Uncle. His flame dances merrily, undignified and unbecoming of a Prince of the Fire Nation. She is glad he never became Fire Lord.

She does not wish to speak with him. Focusing back on her breath, she attempts to hone back in on her own flame, but--

"I can tell you have lost your focus, nephew. You may try again after you have eaten."

Right. Meals. Azula rolls her eyes, unwilling to divert attention to such mortal concerns as food, but Zuko pushes forward and-- ugh, their flame is dancing now just like Uncle's-- says,

"You can come in."

The door opens, and Azula rages silently, uncomfortable with anyone else entering their cabin, especially Uncle, because he turned her away.

"I was impressed with what I could feel before I interrupted you, nephew," he says. Zuko hears the door close, and has to grapple with the confusion of being relieved about it at the same time that it makes Azula more uncomfortable. "I have never witnessed you do that before."

Zuko shrugs, and moves the desk away from the wall, so that he can sit beneath the window across from Uncle. Azula is incredulous-- why would Uncle want to stay and watch them eat, that's stupid-- but there's a surprised, happy look on Uncle's face, and she has to admit that Zuko was right, because Uncle is carrying two plates.

"Did you wait for me?" Zuko says. His voice comes out rough because of how dry his throat is. Azula's fault, and she isn't sorry.

"Yes," Uncle says. "I came by a few minutes after you left to apologise for my harsh words, and found you more focused than you have ever been under my supervision."

Azula is mortified. She didn't even notice him. She should have! She should have felt his inner flame, that close. Just outside the door should be well within their range.

"I don't understand," Zuko says, taking a bite of rice. It's good. He's hungrier than he realised, if the ship's food suddenly tastes so delicious.

"I did not think I would need to interrupt you," Uncle says, eyes twinkling. "Usually, you stop on your own after a reasonable-- or less than reasonable, as the case may be-- amount of time."

Zuko's cheeks burn at the teasing, but he sets his chopsticks down for a moment to fold his hands in his lap and say,

"Yeah, well, it-- it wasn't me."

Uncle raises his eyebrows, which, for some reason, makes Azula quite angry. Zuko can feel it.

"I would not have expected it from Adi either."

"It wasn't him," Zuko mutters. "It was-- she hasn't picked a name yet."

Surprise. Azula feels it in the way Uncle's flame sputters for a moment, like a dancer who has tripped. She wants to tear him apart.

"Well," Uncle says. "I hope she can find a name as impressive as she is."

"That's what makes it hard," Azula snaps. "There _aren't_ any. It's useless, I don't know why I'm even trying."

 _And I won't be worthy of any name describing my fire until I can actually use it,_ she adds internally.

Momentary confusion on Uncle's face, before it smooths out to regret.

"I am sorry for what I said to you earlier. I did not mean to blame you for finding yourself in this position, but I chose my words very poorly in my haste."

Azula is suspicious. She takes another bite of the rice in front of her and chews it mechanically, eyes narrowed at her uncle.

"Why?"

The confusion is back.

"Why?"

Azula rolls her eyes.

"Why are you apologising to me?"

"Are you not the person who I spoke to earlier?"

She waves her hand dismissively.

"No, no, I am, but why would you apologise? It's not like you know me. Why should I matter to you? Why should it be your responsibility to teach me?"

"Searching for reason in the unreasonable will only frustrate you," Uncle says. "Why shouldn't you matter to me? Why shouldn't I teach you?"

Azula lifts one eyebrow, and puts on that smirk that always made Zuko get nervous.

"Because I'm a dangerous, mentally unstable child and I hurt people when I don't get my way?" _Azula always lies_. "Oh, and of course we can't forget the fact that I'm a liar."

For some reason, Uncle doesn't seem intimidated.

"Rejecting yourself to keep someone else from doing so will not diminish the pain it brings you; it merely allows you to feel in control."

Azula's jaw drops. Uncle's eyes twinkle.

Azula seethes. The _audacity_ of this old man--

"Thank you for bringing food," she says. "Please get out of my room."

He feigns surprise.

"What? You mean you don't want more advice on forming the blue flame?"

Azula lets her voice fill with sarcasm as she drawls,

"I haven't mastered my breathing yet, Uncle."

"You have made much progress, though," he says. "You must not force the flame to remain still, or it will search for ways to defy you. Instead, provide everything it wants in such steady supply that it need not move from its position. The stillness is not the goal, niece, but the indicator that you have achieved it. And please, for the sake of an old man's heart-- pause to replace your candles when they burn down. Practicing on one's own inner flame is exceedingly dangerous."

"It was working," Azula protests.

"And if you get frustrated, and attempt to still your own flame by force?"

Azula hesitates.

"Alright, that would be bad," she concedes. She was tempted multiple times, but never ended up actually doing so. She suppresses a shudder. "Are there any additional morsels of expertise you've deemed fit for my consumption, Uncle?"

It's as sarcastic a way as possible to ask if he can tell her anything else.

"One more thing," he says. "And this is deadly serious. You must stop when you are tired. I will wait nearby, and stop you after twenty minutes. Bending blue fire will exhaust you even once you master it, and the preparation is just as demanding."

Azula glares, but Uncle shows no sign of relenting, and she reluctantly agrees; the sun is down, so she would have to stop soon regardless.

* * *

It comes more quickly this time. Azula has moved the desk back up against the wall and lit a single candle. She stares at it as she breathes, watching how it responds and making careful adjustments to her breath as she tries to regain the control she managed to hold for a few moments before Uncle interrupted.

Perhaps it's the food in her stomach, providing fuel. Perhaps it's the fact that she's only using one candle right now.

Perhaps it's just because it's _her_ , because she's determined and capable and special enough to do it.

A flash of blue jumps up through the candle flame, delicate like the petals of a wilting flower, and Azula's heart leaps into her throat.

 _I got it_ , she thinks, astounded. _I got it I got it I got it--_

 _Not completely,_ Lu Ten says.

_Shut up! There was blue! It moved up through the flame faster than lightning, but I saw it!_

_Do it again._ That's Zuko, paying attention now.

Azula smirks to herself, and guides her focus back to the candle flame.

It feels different when she can feel them watching. It's harder. She can't get it to stay as still as she needs.

 _It's whiter than before_ , Lu Ten points out. _Keep trying._

Azula resists the urge to snap at him, and focuses. _Give the flame everything it needs,_ she reminds herself. Steady. She has to be steady.

A wave of blue slides upwards through a nearly motionless flame, and Azula feels shock from her two spectators. She feels smug as she keeps breathing, just seeing how long she can hold it, and even though she can feel the control slipping away, she manages to slow it, and that is very, very satisfying.

Twenty minutes pass in what feels like only a moment, as Azula attempts to find that calm, delicate blue and only manages a few more flickers of it before Uncle is knocking on her door.

That destroys her concentration, and the candle sputters. Azula realises that she is tired.

"Okay, okay, I'm stopping," she calls. "I made it blue, though! I made it blue _five times_ , and it only lasted a moment, but I still did it!"

Uncle chuckles, and Azula is ready to yell at him, ready to _make_ him be impressed, until he says,

"Well done. I will see you tomorrow?"

In the back of her mind, Zuko feels annoyed.

"Maybe," she says. "If Zuko lets me."

_Why do you even want to learn it?_

_I'm supposed to be better than you, dummy,_ she replies, and Zuko's annoyance is strong enough to pull him all the way into front.

 _Whatever, just let me sleep,_ he says.

Azula does her best mental imitation of an eye-roll, and then retreats to let him sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment if you liked this, and let me know what you thought of azula in this chapter


	6. Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2766 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so it's been a little while but i think that i'll be most successful with updating this fic if i don't have a goal for when i update. i'll just do it when i have time! i think that's the best way to keep myself from losing passion for this story.
> 
> the next chapter will take a bit even though i've got the next few written because the scene i'm planning to put at the start of chapter 7 hasn't been written yet, unfortunately! it's a tricky collection of scenes, as i think you'll be able to tell from where this one ends, since chapter 7 will pick up right after
> 
> everyone seems so eager for the two azulas to meet! i wasn't expecting that, but i can kind of see why! hehe, them meeting is one of the scenes i couldn't resist writing as soon as alter!azula inserted herself into the plot early, so i already have a constantly morphing draft for that ~~fight scene~~ conversation XD no spoilers, though ;)
> 
> also... scratch what i said about filler for at least the next few chapters. stuff is gonna happen.
> 
> new names in this chapter:  
> yoshimi - beautiful, lovely progress 佳弥 (but it can also be spelled cultivate 修)  
> misao - fidelity/chastity/honor 操 (the kanji means 'manipulate' in chinese, but this name can also be spelled ocean blue 海青)
> 
> btw i got all the japanese names for this fic so far from [japanese-names.info](https://japanese-names.info/) and to be honest i've only done rigorous checks on the names for more important characters, so some of this might be incorrect since i only have one source for most of these names.
> 
> [nacreous clouds](https://cloudatlas.wmo.int/nacreous-clouds.html)

Zuko wakes up with the sun just three hours after falling asleep.

 _Good morning,_ comes Lu Ten's voice in his mind. That confuses Zuko a bit; should they say good morning to one another? How much talking is weird, and how little would be rude?

 _I simply wanted to say it,_ Lu Ten explains.

That seems fair, so Zuko nods his head and gets up to look out the window.

He isn't getting enough sleep here. There's a dull, throbbing ache at his temples that tells him so. Sunlight helps a little bit.

_Oh? Awake, are we?_

That's Azula. Zuko yawns, stretching his arms out to the side in front of the window.

 _Good morning, Azula,_ Lu Ten says.

 _It's Misao now, but good morning, fake Lu Ten,_ Azula says. _Zuzu, the sun is on the other side of the ship, you know. We're heading North, stupid._

Zuko sort of wanted to avoid leaving his cabin, but Azula-- Misao has a point. He should go and soak up the sunlight so that he has enough energy to deal with the Avatar and his companion later today.

He sighs, and changes into a clean uniform.

* * *

The sky is still tinged with orange when Zuko gets down to the main deck, and the sun is hovering just above the horizon, yellow and wonderful. He feels truly better now, with the sun before him and the warmth soaking into his skin. The throbbing pain in his temples is much easier to ignore.

He has the Avatar. He's going home.

 _Don't get too excited, Zuzu,_ says Misao, sweet and sharp. _You have to train him first._

 _Do we?_ Lu Ten questions, as Zuko waves away a friendly crewman and starts stretching. _Would it not be more to our nation's advantage to ensure that the Avatar remains untrained?_

 _That assumes he won't be on our side once he learns the truth,_ Misao retorts. _Zuzu, what are you doing, anyway? There's no point in you training when I'm going to learn everything better later._

Zuko breathes in through his nose, holds it for a heartbeat, and lets it out through his mouth. 

_I'm not interested in the ambitions you've picked out for yourself. I'll keep training the way I have been._

_You mean those basics Uncle wants you to spend your whole life repeating? He's limiting you, Zuzu._

Zuko doesn't respond. He's finished stretching, so he begins running through katas, the kind that don't require him to actually summon a flame, because he still feels tired from all that intense meditation last night.

He can feel Misao's disdain at the constant movement in his inner flame as he trains, but as far as he can tell, it's no worse than Uncle's is when he demonstrates these moves, so he tries not to pay any attention to her occasional comments about how messy his chi is.

Surely Uncle would have said something if Zuko were doing so poorly, right?

"I see you have finally begun to take an old man's advice more seriously."

Uncle. Ugh. Whenever he isn't around, Zuko can sometimes actually respect him, but then he opens his mouth and says something like that, and Zuko's annoyance flares enough to accidentally produce a flame.

"Am I doing this wrong?" he demands. "I don't want any lies this time, Uncle! Should I be keeping my inner flame still? Is that why you always have me--"

Uncle holds up a hand, and the flames come without Zuko asking for them, flaring in his palms and jumping along his arms before he closes his hands into fists to extinguish them. He should have better control. He shouldn't still be bending on accident at his age.

"What you naturally do with the basics determines what style you will be most adept at," Uncle says. "This is lost knowledge; most only know of the style favoured by the military and royal family of our great nation, which requires a steady, knife-shaped inner flame, able and prepared to strike in exactly the same way every time. Your sister excels at this style. It is why her flame is blue."

Zuko frowns.

"And I can't do it," he says.

"I have held out hope that you would figure it out, nephew," Uncle says. "For the only teachers of the other style are not only within the Fire Nation, but they are very difficult to reach."

"You could teach me, though," Zuko says. "Couldn't you?"

"I can begin," Iroh agrees. "I am only considering this because you have found the Avatar, and will soon be able to return from your banishment."

Misao is silent within Zuko's mind.

"Uncle," Zuko says. "Do you think I should learn it? Am I more suited to it than... Do I even have any chance of mastering it?"

"On the contrary, nephew," Uncle says, a small, fiercely proud smile on his lips, "as soon as you showed me your heart in your Father's war room, I knew that you were perfectly suited to this style of firebending."

Zuko's heart jumps into his throat.

 _Oh, how deliciously fitting,_ Misao jeers.

"So it's-- it's a traitor's style," Zuko whispers with some difficulty.

Uncle is shaking his head, but Zuko turns away.

 _You can take over training, Misao_ he says. _I don't think I'm meant to firebend--_

"No, Prince Zuko," Uncle says, and his inner flame is bright, dancing, strong. "It is the style of a brave, loyal warrior, who puts his duty to his people before his own safety and reputation. Think, Prince Zuko. Remember your intentions on that day. Remember the loyalty that was labelled as disrespect."

_What._

_I think he is saying that you did the right thing,_ Lu Ten says.

"I don't understand," Zuko says, voice dangerously close to breaking, and then there is a warm hand on his shoulder.

"You saw injustice," his Uncle says, and the hand on his shoulder isn't there to steady his weakness-- it's there to augment his strength. "You acted to destroy it. You were ready to wield your flame before Agni for the sake of your people, and that is no dishonor. That is strength, Prince Zuko. That is loyalty."

Zuko shrugs the hand off.

 _No,_ he thinks to himself. _I was wrong. I was disrespectful. That's why Father had to--_

"Just teach me what I need to know, Uncle," he snaps. "It doesn't matter why I was disrespectful."

"It matters more than anything," Uncle says, and he looks sad now. "But we do not have to speak more of it now. I will show you the basics of this new style, and then we will eat before you practice them."

"What is it called, Uncle?"

"I'm afraid that's a secret I cannot share with you, Prince Zuko."

* * *

Whispers. And the wind is moving differently.

"Is... dancing... looks like clouds..."

The waterbender.

"Why don't we just ask him?" The Avatar. "Hey Zuko, what are you-- yipe!"

Zuko sends an arc of flame towards the Avatar, and then pulls it to a stop a few feet away, letting it blaze and crackle as it hovers in the air.

Katara comes running up to the Avatar's side.

"You could have hurt him!" she exclaims.

"He hopped into my training area without even telling me he was there first, Katara," Zuko retorts calmly, pulling the flames back away from Aang and letting them disperse into nothing around his hands. "If he had done that yesterday, he would have gotten hurt."

"Why yesterday?" the Avatar asks, hopping up into the air to hover above a tightly wound ball of wind.

"Yesterday, my nephew was still trying to use a style that did not fit his natural instincts," Uncle says. "His control has improved very much in only a few hours of training today."

"That's not the point," Zuko says. "Avatar, if someone is bending, you have to give them space. _Especially_ if they don't know you're there."

"Okay," Aang says. "Is that why your fire looks so different now?"

Zuko nods shortly.

"It was-- weird," the waterbender says, and Zuko bristles, ready to snap at her-- "Like the winter's shell-clouds, the ones that shimmer without the Aurora--"

And now she's babbling on about some Water Tribe nonsense, throwing him completely off his stride.

"Right?" Aang says. He's grinning, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "It was pretty!"

The waterbender's face twists into a sour little frown, and Zuko's eyes are wide. Then Uncle chuckles, and Zuko scowls, turning back to him.

"I'm finished training for the day, Uncle. Katara--"

_Crash._

Zuko turns back around.

"What is this animal doing _back_ on my ship?"

And then, with a shout, the idiotic warrior charges at him _again_.

Zuko steps out of his way at the last second and lets him crash into the railing.

"Sokka, no! He wasn't attacking me," Aang explains helpfully.

"He shot fire at you and Katara!"

"Yeah, but--"

"Get the bison off my ship," Zuko orders. Said bison lets out a complaining groan and makes eye contact with him. Unnerved, Zuko refuses to look away, trying to assert some sort of authority over this huge beast.

"I think he's hungry," the Avatar says. Zuko grits his teeth.

"What does it eat?" he asks reluctantly.

* * *

The answer, as it turns out, is a _lot_. Once the bison leaves, and he no longer has to supervise it (and the Water Tribe idiot riding on its back), Zuko stomps out of the cargo hold so he won't set their dwindling supply of hay on fire with a stray spark, supremely annoyed with himself for being a weak enough firebender that such a precaution is even necessary. Nevermind that he's now improving very fast.

 _Meditate?_ Misao suggests, and Zuko knows she just wants to practice her firebending, but... He doesn't want to deal with anything right now, so he may as well let her have another turn. Right?

"Prince Zuko," and that's Uncle, "I need to show you how best to meditate to match the new style you are learning."

Irritation from both him and Misao. For once, they're agreeing.

 _Funny how family can bring two enemies together so effectively_ , Misao comments sarcastically.

"How long will this take?"

Uncle winks.

"That depends on how quickly you learn it."

* * *

It's so much better than the meditating Zuko is used to. Uncle keeps him to the most basic technique, but even in that, he isn't required to sit still; no, he can _move_ , and it's only a gentle rocking, back and forth and barely noticeable, but it makes his inner flame flare so brightly and dance with the movement like a flag in the wind. And that's a strange comparison, considering how his ancestors killed the wind.

"You are doing well, nephew," Uncle interrupts, and Zuko feels joy and pride before he squashes them back down. He doesn't deserve them, he hasn't earned them. And he never will, not with this traitor's style that feels so right.

No. No, he _will_ earn them, with or without the advantage of real firebending. He has the Avatar in his grasp, and all he has to do now is train him and bring him home.

 _I want a turn to meditate_ , Misao whines. _Zuzu, you've been doing it for ages, it's my turn._

And right as she shoves her way into front,

"Sir."

That's Crewman Yoshimi. He's new.

"What is it?" Misao says sharply. She'll have to have a _talk_ with Jee later about training the newbies not to interrupt.

"Towerman Souka's spotted land, sir. And, um, Helmsman Hiame says we'll be at the temple in a few hours."

Oh. Zuko blinks. He has to prepare. 

_Be polite,_ Lu Ten advises.

"Thank you for informing me promptly," Zuko says. "You are dismissed."

The crewman swallows nervously, but doesn't leave, and Misao raises an eyebrow at him.

"Also, the Avatar's bison is--"

_Crash._

Zuko massages his temples.

"Alright," he says. "I'll take care of it."

* * *

Zuko does not wear his armor off of the ship, despite the advice of his uncle and the dubious looks he gets from several crewmen.

 _Honestly, it's insulting that they think we need it,_ Misao grumbles.

"Why is the _Fire Prince_ coming with us, anyway?" whispers the Water Boy.

"I can hear you, you know," Misao calls. "I have to supervise the Avatar, of course."

"You shouldn't be here," Katara snaps, turning to glare at Misao with clenched fists, spine straight and tense. "It was _your_ nation that did this, _your_ people who destroyed Aang's life. You _disgust_ me--"

"Katara, the temples welcome everyone," Aang says quietly, and Misao sees the incredulity on Katara's face before it softens, and the waterbender turns to the Avatar to put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Katara says.

 _Just let me handle this,_ Zuko says, and Misao rolls her eyes, but gets out of his way.

"What's that smell?" Zuko asks, a little bit startled. It's almost like the smoked meat he's had at festivals, only more pungent.

"Blubbered seal jerky," Sokka says. "And no, you can't have any. Hey Aang, how are we gonna get there, anyway? I can't even see the temple from here, are you sure this is the right place?"

"Yes it is," Zuko says. "It's behind--"

"Oh, that's easy," Aang interrupts. "We can take Appa! The only way to get to the temple is by flying bison, anyway."

Zuko makes a face.

"Do your people not know how to climb?"

"What? You can't climb over the mountains, they're too steep, and it's much too cold. Plus, there's dangerous spirits that live there."

Zuko shivers. He does _not_ need any reminders about _dangerous spirits_. His nightmares after his last visit weren't just about the skeletons he found, after all.

"We'll take the bison."

* * *

It's a lot less perilous to ride Appa, and a lot faster. Despite himself, Zuko finds his spirits lifting. With the wind rushing past, it's easy to let the fire within his heart flutter and soar, almost like the meditating, but with more awareness of his surroundings.

"So what kind of destruction should we be expecting, Mr. Fireball?" asks Sokka, and Zuko can't even get annoyed with him, because the sun is on his face and he's surrounded by air (by fuel) and this is where he is meant to be. No one can hurt him here.

"Destruction?" Aang echoes from the bison's head, where he's holding the reins. That does bring Zuko down a little bit.

"I don't know how it looked before, but I think most of the structure is still intact. The main areas won't have any bodies in them, but anywhere else there could be ghosts."

Katara mutters something under her breath, but Zuko ignores her.

"Great," Sokka says. "How do you deal with ghosts?"

"You have to stay away from them," Zuko says. "But it helps to not be alone, and since I've dealt with them before, we should probably all stay together. I don't know how they'll react to Aang, but they're probably holding a grudge. Aang, if they attack you for being an airbender, you have to tell them that since you're the Avatar, you're a firebender too."

"I don't think I want to be a firebender," Aang says glumly, as the Temple comes into view. "It doesn't seem like anything good can come from it."

Misao comes into front to tell him off, but Katara beats her to it.

"But what about your friend Kuzon?" she says reasonably. "You told me he was kind, like sunshine. I know every firebender now is more like a floating blaze of oil--" Misao finds herself on the receiving end of a nasty glare, and smirks back at the waterbender-- "but Aang, maybe you can change that. You can help them learn how to be like Kuzon again."

"You really think so?" Aang says, voice full of longing.

"If anyone can do it, it's you," Katara says. 

"Wow, we're here!" says Sokka loudly, ruining the moment. Zuko almost looks at him gratefully, but catches himself in time.

"This is going to be great, you guys!" Aang exclaims. "Just wait until you see the airball field!"

Katara and Sokka include Zuko in their nervous glance at first by mistake, which Misao finds amusing, because of course she's still paying attention. Zuko almost wishes she were beside him in the flesh, though. He has a bad feeing about this, and not because he cares about the Avatar's feelings.

Maybe Uncle and the crew were right. Maybe he should have worn his armour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you thought!! lol i had a potential name for misao that would've meant "manipulate hope" if you used the chinese meaning for that one kanji, but i ended up just using misao insead and i'm not sure why! it just felt better to me XD
> 
> btw i have a [writing tumblr](https://coralflower-ao3.tumblr.com/) that's been sitting unused for a bit but i've decided to start using it more for stuff like letting y'all know whenever i work on a fic & posting occasional word counts for fics so y'all can get an idea of how much content i'm hoarding >:) feel free to follow it!


	7. Airball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2622 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, it's been an ice age, i know. sorry lol.
> 
> no zuko pov for this chapter haha
> 
> so anyway the next chapter is actually the one with the scene thats been giving me trouble but honestly its been dragging on so long that if its not done in another week or so im just gonna put a paragraph summarising what yall need to know and skip it. XD
> 
> anyway enjoy

Sokka is on edge. He's in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar face and-- hey, that rhymed! Sokka gets a moment of amusement out of that before his worry settles back over him again.

Weirdly, Zuko seems freaked out too. Sokka doesn't really get that at first, but then he remembers there might be ghosts, and he shivers. That is just not right. Sokka's a normal guy, he shouldn't have to deal with ghosts or spirits or any of this.

"Okay!" Aang says, spreading his arms to present a courtyard with posts coming out of the ground every few feet. "Here's the airball court! Does anyone want to play?"

"I will," Zuko says, beating Sokka to it. "What are the rules?"

"I want to play too," Sokka says.

"We need an even number to make it fair," Aang says, turning to Sokka's sister. "Katara?"

"Alright, I'd love to play," she says, beaming at Aang, who looks too ecstatic about that for Sokka's comfort. "Are we going to split into teams?"

"Is bending allowed?" Zuko asks.

"Yes and yes!" Aang says. "Me and Katara against Sokka and Zuko!"

Sokka can't decide who to glare at.

"But--"

"No, that makes sense," Zuko interrupts. "Aang can use air to redirect my fire, and Katara can use water to put it out. This way, there's the least chance of anyone getting hurt."

"Yeah, great idea," Katara says, and phew, that's sarcasm, what a relief. "Except there's no water here, Mr. Risk Management."

Zuko lifts something with a strap off his shoulder and holds it out to Katara.

"Here," he says. "Try to keep it drinkable. The cap unscrews."

Sokka tilts his head and frowns at it. It's a metal container wrapped in fabric, with a pocket on the side and a shoulder strap. It isn't corked.

"What?" Katara says, taking it and studying the neck of the bottle.

"Like this," Zuko says, reaching out and twisting something. "The cap comes off. You turn it the other way to put it back on."

"Woah," Sokka says. Katara doesn't seem quite as impressed as she puts the cap back on and hangs the bottle back over her shoulder. "You've gotta show me how that works after this."

Zuko looks surprised to be spoken to so nonchalantly, but he nods. Meanwhile, Aang is vibrating in place. 

"So the way airball works is each team has a defender who keeps the ball from going into the goal, and then I guess the other person will try to get the ball into the other team's goal! And you can't touch the ground."

"You can defend," Sokka tells Zuko.

Aang lets them start with the ball, and Sokka narrows his eyes at the goal, all the way across the court.

"You should try to get closer before you throw it in," says a voice from behind him, and Sokka turns to glare at Zuko.

"Yeah, I--"

The ball lifts out of his hands and soars towards Zuko, who jumps up-- the poles in front of each goal are the lowest in the whole field-- and swats the ball away.

It turns in a circle like Boomerang and comes right back at him.

"Stupid airbender," the prince mutters, smacking it even harder, and Sokka hears Aang giggle as it turns around again.

This time, Zuko spits fire at the ball. It catches easily, and Zuko calls out,

"There. Now you can't airbend it so much without making the fire hotter."

"But that's the point of the game!" Aang protests, and Zuko holds the flaming ball out to Sokka.

"Uh," Sokka says, and Zuko raises his eyebrows.

"Trust me," he says, and Sokka's eyes bug out a little bit. Zuko flushes. "I won't let it burn you. I promise."

The look on his face is so determined that Sokka believes him wholeheartedly for long enough to reach out. Before he touches the flames, though, Katara screams his name, and he realises _wait, this is stupid_.

But he's inches from the fire and he feels no heat, so he reaches out the rest of the way and takes the ball.

It doesn't burn.

"I won't be able to keep the fire under control if Aang bends more air at it," Zuko says, loud enough for the others to hear. And Sokka sees what he's doing. It's calculating, almost manipulative, and if it weren't for the fact that Katara is also on the other team, it would ensure them a goal.

"You know Katara can just put it out, right," Sokka says, and Zuko nods.

"The airbender put her on defense even though he was certain we wouldn't get near his goal. She deserves a chance to play."

Sokka's jaw drops at that. Fairness? From the prince of the Fire Nation? If Sokka weren't holding a flaming ball in completely unscathed hands right now, he'd be tempted to assign ulterior motives. As it is, he's a little busy freaking out about the fire. He'll examine Zuko's actions more closely later.

"Go," Zuko says, and Sokka goes. 

It's scary, holding a ball of fire, but after a few leaps towards the other side of the court, Sokka feels great. Aang is flitting around him, trying to make him drop the ball, but since he's afraid to airbend at it, none of his attempts are doing much.

Zuko evened the playing field, Sokka realises. Aang can't use his bending offensively for fear of hurting Sokka. And Zuko only took a moment to make it happen. Zuko is holding the flames away from Sokka's skin, keeping him safe.

As Sokka nears the goal, though, he sees his sister's face, and realises this might not be as easy as he hoped. Katara looks determined. She has the cap off of Zuko's bottle, and she's holding water in her hands, flowing with it. It actually looks sort of scary.

Whatever. It's not like Katara can really stop him. He's the tribe's lead hunter now, and she still spends all her time doing girl stuff like sewing and laundry and cooking. She's not athletic, or at least not the way he is.

Mind you, that doesn't mean Sokka can just slack off. Katara may not be much of one for spear-throwing, but she's more than proven her ability to throw a mean snowball when provoked. So Sokka pulls his thoughts back into focus and pays attention on his approach.

The wind is blowing just a bit to the left. Sokka takes note of that as he makes his last few leaps before throwing, and then he throws.

The flaming ball soars right for the goal, and Sokka's heart leaps.

A wave of water splashes up and douses the ball, and Katara yanks her hands down and ends up covered in water, but holding the ball.

"Ha!"

Sokka is devastated. His heart is pounding with exertion, and his lungs feel like they're trying to escape from his chest. And it was all for nothing, because his dumb little unathletic sister just used her freaky water powers to stop the ball.

"Katara, you did it!" Aang says, not out of breath at all.

From all the way across the court, Zuko calls out,

"Nice one, Katara, but how much water do you have left?"

From the look on Katara's face, Sokka can tell the answer is not much.

"Aang," she calls out sharply. "New plan. You defend. I'll score. I have an idea. Is there any airbending technique to help someone else jump the way you do?"

It's a great question, because if Sokka had trouble with some of these jumps, his slightly shorter sister will find them even harder.

"Umm, no," Aang says. "But I can invent one! What's your idea?"

"You'll see," Katara says, smirking at Sokka and jumping for the post to her right. She's not going to make it. Sokka's heart flips out for the third time in a row, and then, miraculously, Katara lands on the post. Sokka blinks. He blinks again.

"Close your mouth, Sokka," Katara taunts him, jumping past him, towards the other side of the court, and Sokka gives chase.

Katara constantly looks on the edge of falling, and it's distracting Sokka from the game. At one point, she does fall, and then the air itself seems to shove her back onto the pole. It's horrifying.

So it's not really that surprising that Sokka is still too far away to do anything when Katara gets within range of the goal.

But he can see and hear it just fine when Zuko says,

"Oh, clever," and blasts flame at Katara, _at Sokka's baby sister_.

Sokka grabs Boomerang off his back and throws it at Zuko, at the same time as Katara throws the newly-flaming ball. Boomerang is more aerodynamic, and it travels faster, hitting Zuko in the side of the head and knocking him off his pole. The ball soars through the goal unimpeded, but Sokka is completely past caring at this point, leaping towards Katara.

"Katara," he hears himself shout, and it's an awful sound. This is an awful moment, though.

Katara is cheering. Her hands, lifted into the air, are coated in water, and Sokka stops short as she turns to face him.

"Thanks, Sokka!"

"You-- you aren't burned? You-- how?"

"What was that for?"

Zuko, climbing back onto his pole.

"You shot fire at my sister!" Sokka says, and Zuko has the audacity to roll his eyes.

"It's fine, Sokka," Katara says. "I have water wrapped around my hands, so they won't get burned."

"I wouldn't have lit it back on fire if I didn't know she would be fine," Zuko snaps, and Sokka's fists clench.

"Stop acting like I'm supposed to trust you," Sokka retorts. "Last time I checked, it makes sense to freak out when you see a guy shoot fire at your little sister."

"It's okay, Sokka," Katara says. "He had it under control--"

"Well I'm sorry if I don't have that much faith in his _control_ , Katara," Sokka says, gesturing at Zuko-- or more accurately, at Zuko's scar. "Look at his _face_."

Silence.

"What's that supposed to mean," Zuko says. His voice is so different that the contrast gives Sokka chills.

"What, are you gonna run away again?" Sokka taunts, knowing it's the wrong thing to say, knowing he's not acting right. But he can't stop replaying that moment in his mind, the moment when flames sprouted in the air with Katara right in their path.

"Would you rather I attack you?" Zuko says, vicious now. "Because that can be arranged."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Boys!" Katara says, stepping between them, and Zuko leaps forward to get up high enough to lean over and look at Sokka around her.

"You have no right," Zuko says. "You have no right to say anything about my scar."

"What's going on?" Aang says, and Sokka turns to see him hovering off to the side.

"Sokka is apologising for what he said to me," Zuko says, and Sokka scoffs, turning back around to tell Zuko exactly what he thinks of that idea.

Katara is glaring at him. Sokka gulps, deciding he'd rather keep his sister on his side, and says,

"Sorry, Zuko."

"Good," Zuko says, turning and jumping down to the ground. He stalks off.

"Well, looks like we won, Katara!" Aang says.

"Why did you side with him," you hiss at Katara, once you're all off the field and following after Zuko.

"I wasn't," Katara whispers back. "I just don't think we should fight in front of Aang. He likes Zuko for some reason."

Aang is skipping ahead, trying to catch up to Zuko, which just figures.

"Zuko!" he calls out. Ahead, Zuko starts walking even faster, and Sokka snorts.

"You really thought I was in danger?" Katara says, and Sokka gapes at her.

"Katara, he _shot fire_ at you!"

"I had my hands coated in water the whole time," Katara says. "You didn't notice? I assumed you were planning to backstab him the whole time, especially with your wimpy attempt to score a goal."

Insulted, Sokka shakes his head at his sister and starts walking faster, thinking he'll catch up with Aang and Zuko and really apologise. They just turned right, and Sokka doesn't want to lose sight of them.

"Aang, wait," he hears Zuko say. "Wait, Uncle and I couldn't get in there last time, I wasn't able to remove any bodies--"

"There won't be bodies in here!" comes Aang's cheerful voice. "The sanctuary is locked most of the time."

"Then how are you gonna open it?" Sokka asks, turning the corner. "Do you have a key, or something?"

Aang grins in that unflappable way of his and takes an airbending stance.

"The key, Sokka," he says, waving his hands to direct wind at the door, "is airbending!"

* * *

Aang is having a terrible, wonderful day. He's home again, he played airball with his new friends, but--

but--

Aang shudders, and holds out an arm to present the sanctuary.

"Ta da!" he says.

Zuko's eyes are wide as he steps in, walking like a guest.

"Is that... Avatar Roku?"

"What?" Sokka says, and Aang beams at Zuko.

"Sure is!!" he says. "How did you recognise him?"

"Recognise who?" Katara says. "Woah, there's so many of these statues..."

"This is a statue of Avatar Roku," Zuko explains. "There was one like it in a temple on the outskirts of the Caldera, but he wasn't very popular, so my family only visited once."

"Why wasn't he popular?" Sokka asks, and at about the same time, Katara says,

"Your family?"

Aang winces, as Zuko goes stiff and still.

"Wow," Aang says. "Katara, look, a Water Tribe Avatar!!"

"He did nothing to stop the Air Army from devastating our islands with constant storms."

Uh-oh. Aang makes a face.

"There wasn't an army!" he protests, and Zuko turns to level a serious look at him.

"How do you know," he says.

"If Aang says there wasn't an Air Army," Sokka says. "Air- Airmy?"

Katara rolls her eyes, and Aang can't help but giggle.

"Sokka's point is we believe you, Aang. Besides, how should Zuko know any of it?"

Zuko is opening his mouth, and Aang waves his hands, not really meaning to airbend, but the indignant breeze ruffles everyone's hair anyway.

"Let's not fight about it!" Aang says, cutting Zuko off. "Zuko, what did you do with the..." he realises what he's asking and his face falls. "With the Air Nomad bodies that you found?"

"I left them," Zuko says. "There weren't very many, so I remember where most were. I can guide you to avoid them, if you want."

He's speaking quietly now, and his voice has a rumbly-raspy tone to it when he's not shouting. Like crackling flames, or far-away thunder.

"No," Aang says, shaking his head and squaring his shoulders. "If I'm..." _Breathe in. Breathe out. Accept it._ "...the last... the last airbender... Then I have to take care of them. I'm the only one left who can do it."

Zuko and Katara reach out at almost the same time and each put a hand on Aang's shoulder.

"That's very responsible of you, Aang," Katara says, and Aang attempts a smile at her.

"It's going to be hard," Zuko says. "You'll feel better afterwards, once you've set their spirits free."

Aang takes another deep breath, and nods. 

"Then let's start. Zuko, where..."

Zuko doesn't make him finish the sentence.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Katara asks, and Aang nods.

"Yes please," he says. They all file out of the sanctuary, and Aang follows Zuko, step after step after step.

 _You'll feel better afterwards,_ he tells himself. But it doesn't really help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment if you wanna haha


	8. Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2987 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got that scene done yay
> 
> this chapter starts to rly get into the repurcussions of zhao's death! :D
> 
> warning for uhhh rape apologism

Sokka is impressed with everyone but his sister right now. Which is not to say he isn't proud of her for being so kind and natural in the way she's comforting Aang and glaring at Zuko whenever the firebender upsets him, just that Sokka isn't really surprised by it. His sister is good with kids.

Aang is facing the most difficult thing Sokka can imagine: members of his tribe, dead for so long, kept away from the ocean by the simple fact that no one was left to honor them. Sokka isn't a sentimental guy, but even his heart is aching as he watches Aang gather up bones.

"Why are you mixing them?" Sokka asks, when they get to the second skeleton and Aang puts these bones in with the first.

"Why shouldn't I?" Aang asks. "It's easier, and besides, the ghosts don't care. Monk Gyatso says that a dead body is just an empty vessel."

Sokka notices his use of the present tense, and exchanges a glance with Katara.

"Who's Monk Gyatso?" she asks.

"He's-- he was my teacher," Aang says. "He taught me everything I know, about airbending, about the world... And he told me I was the Avatar."

"He sounds like a really great person," Katara says. Aang nods. Sokka feels awkward.

"He was the best person," Aang says reminiscently.

Zuko has been quiet. He opens his mouth and lets the rest of them know why.

"Is it true that you let the raven-vultures eat your dead."

Sokka's jaw drops. He hears Katara gasp. Aang is frowning, looking vulnerable and defensive.

"It's an act of generosity," he says, shoulders hunched. "If my people could tell me what they wanted, this is what they'd ask for."

"Do the raven-vultures eat bones?" Sokka asks, morbidly fascinated, and Aang shakes his head.

"These are for the crow-hawks. I'll have to find some kind of grain to mash them up with, since the flesh has already been eaten..."

Katara looks like she's going to be sick, and Sokka doesn't feel much different. Zuko just seems interested, though.

"How do you prepare the bones for the crow-hawks?" he asks. "Is it alright for outsiders to help you? Are there any rituals you'll need to perform?"

Aang blinks, taken aback, and then throws himself into graphic description. Sokka tunes him out and hopes Katara is doing the same.

"And nope, no rituals," Aang is saying by the time they get to the next skeleton. "Just conversation! People die, that's normal. Just--" his voice shakes-- "just a normal day. Nothing too special."

Sokka blinks and tries to imagine thinking of a funeral as a normal day. It doesn't work.

"What did you do with, um... The Fire Nation dead?" Aang asks, and Sokka turns to Zuko, back to morbid curiosity. 

"We burn our dead," Zuko says. "It was exhausting, maintaining a fire that hot for long enough to burn all of the bones. We have to keep them separate and return the ashes to their remaining family."

"You burn people up?" Katara exclaims, horrified. "That's--"

"You dump them in the sea to freeze and drown forever," Zuko says, voice cold. "My people are not your people. I know what my people need, Katara. I gave each and every soldier the respect I expect to get when I am dead."

"Burial at sea is the right and proper thing," Katara says, sticking her nose up. "It's--"

"Not for firebenders," Zuko snaps. "Firebending comes from the breath. Ashes are dust, light enough to float on the wind. Ashes can breathe. Ice can't. My people don't need water, we don't need to be put out."

"You can't just destroy the body," Katara bursts out, and then she looks at Aang and winces. "I mean--"

"It's okay for us to be different," Aang interrupts, and his voice sounds funny. He wipes at his face, and Sokka looks away to give him privacy. "Right? Katara, you-- you want to be kept whole, in the water. I want to give my body back to the world once I'm finished with it. Zuko, you want, um, to..."

Aang stumbles over the words, and Zuko finishes,

"To be consumed by the hottest flame a bender can make, severing the bonds keeping my spirit attached to the human world. It's really not that weird."

Sokka chokes, and then starts laughing, and the other three look at him like he's crazy.

"Hey," he says. "At least we can all agree we don't want to be buried in the ground, right?"

The look on Zuko's face is hilariously disgusted.

"No way," Katara says, and Aang makes a face too.

"It wouldn't be that bad, but that's a much slower way to return it to the world than sky burial. Everything you other people do is much slower."

"Hey!" Sokka protests. "There's nothing wrong with being slow!"

"That's not what you said back home when I couldn't keep up with you while holding a huge bundle of _laundry_ ," Katara snips, and Sokka blinks, a little surprised that she's comfortable enough to bicker in front of Zuko.

"Here, you can put those in here," Zuko says quietly, taking an empty bag out of some pocket and holding it out to Aang. The material it's made of is thin and floppy, but it looks strong, and Sokka wonders what it came from. It doesn't look like hide. Maybe it's snake-lizard skin?

"Thanks," Aang says, dropping the bones he's gathered up in his shirt into the bag and slinging it across his shoulder. "Let's go this way now, guys, I wanna--"

As he talks, he moves towards an archway, and then he stops dead.

"What is it?" Katara asks immediately, because she picks up on that kind of thing much faster.

"Uhh-- Zuko I thought you said you got all your people taken care of?"

Aang's voice shakes, and Sokka comes up behind him to see a hole in the floor where bricks have come apart, and through the hole, the skull-shaped mask of a Fire Nation helmet.

Which is connected to armour.

Which is worn by a skeleton.

"I must have missed that room," Zuko says gruffly.

Aang bites his lip, and then jumps down through the hole, fall slowed by hovering.

"Aang," Katara begins, but Aang has already disappeared into the room.

Sokka heaves a sigh, and follows.

Aang is on his knees in front of a skeleton in robes, surrounded by skeletons in those awful skull helmets.

"Gyatso?" he says, and Sokka exchanges a look with Katara.

There's a sudden gust of wind, and Sokka learns exactly what it's like to be in the same room as a powerful bender.

It's the most terrifying thing he's ever experienced.

* * *

The Caldera buzzes with life. High on a ridge, in a temple rarely visited due to the unpopularity of the Avatar it's dedicated to, a shrine glows.

A messenger is sent to the palace.

* * *

She burns. Everyone but her got to leave. Everyone but her was found and released, but she is trapped, encased in stone, and for that, she burns. He left before, and she lost hope. He is back now, but still he has not found her, and now she will be alone. He found everyone else, but still she is hidden, trapped.

He's supposed to help her. He's supposed to find her, but he doesn't care, and she's going to be alone forever. She hates him for it.

She was going to warn them. She found out what was happening, and she was going to warn everyone, but she couldn't. They didn't deserve to die, none of them deserved this, Sozin didn't deserve one bit of the power he stole. The smoke of the pyre stings what remains of her nose, and she is angry. It is exactly the same as the day she died, with the fire of bodies in her lungs, choking her.

Stone shifts under someone's feet, and she is not of earth, but the new air tells her about the crack that just opened. She follows it. She wants the sun on her face. She wants to follow her friends, those he already set free.

Behind the Avatar, behind his allies, in a place where no one is looking, a blue flame flickers beneath a crack in the floor, and a wind of smoke begins to follow them.

He should have found her. He didn't, and she is going to _hurt_ him for it.

* * *

Sokka isn't impressed with anyone but his sister.

Like, come on, she talked down an angry Avatar and kept all of them from getting tossed off the mountainside in a gust of anger! It was amazing.

Sokka is looking away and trying not to break down as Aang gathers up bones and Zuko gathers up bones and Katara helps.

Powerful benders are terrifying. Sokka doesn't pay much attention to the others, and when they get back to the ship, he's claustrophobic despite the open air.

"I'm gonna go hunting," he announces.

Aang says he can take Appa. Score!

* * *

Misao is meditating when a knock on the door interrupts.

"What is it," she calls sharply. She had been hoping Iroh would simply pass right by, but apparently he doesn't seem to find her meditation all that important.

"I'm afraid it is rather dire," Iroh says. "Princess Azula has sent a message asking for a meeting. Her ship will arrive shortly, and she has requested that we receive her."

Misao's eyes fly open, and the candle before her sputters. She puts it out.

"Then we must prepare," she says, narrowing her eyes at the wisp of smoke rising from the candle wick. "Would you like to make some tea, Uncle?"

* * *

Azula isn't a kid anymore.

Well, no, that's not quite accurate. She's definitely still a kid, but she's grown. It's been three years since Zuko last saw her. She looks around the deck of his ship critically, and Zuko winces.

"Uncle has brewed some tea," he says, with some prompting from Lu Ten. Azula sniffs disparagingly. He wants to shout at her, but he has to hold it together until they can get behind closed doors.

"Well, brother, if that's the kind of reception you deem fitting for the sister you haven't seen in ages, I suppose I'll let you lead the way."

Zuko bites his tongue and nods shortly, turning on his heel to show Azula to the tea room. Misao is silent, but he can feel her insecurity.

"Niece, how lovely to see you again," Uncle says when they arrive. "I have brewed your mother's favourite tea, since I don't know your own...?"

Azula smiles sweetly, and Zuko's heart leaps into his throat. Where's the disdain Azula usually showed their Uncle?

"I don't have much time for tea with my training, so I don't know my favourite yet, Uncle. Besides, there was never much point after Zuko stole away the Caldera's leading expert in tea. May I speak to my brother alone for a moment?"

"Of course," Iroh says, with a meaningful smile at Zuko as he leaves the room. Zuko has no idea what it means, but he doesn't have time to puzzle over it. He finally lets go and allows himself to glare at Azula.

"What are you doing here?" he growls.

 _Wow, Zuzu, you really make it too easy to rile you up,_ Misao tells him.

"Investigating the assassination of Commander Zhao," Azula says primly, holding out a scroll with their father's seal on it. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you, Zuzu?"

A sweet smile.

 _Act normal,_ says Lu Ten, but Zuko has already set his teacup down on the saucer with a rudely loud clink.

 _Oh, this is stupid, just let me handle her,_ Misao says.

It's almost pathetically easy to push Zuko out of her way.

"I suppose I just take after our mother," Misao says, mirroring Azula's false sweetness and reaching out to take the scroll. "Commander Zhao was a pedophilic rapist with more skill in deception than in actual firebending."

Azula rolls her eyes.

"If your unverifiable claims as to the skill of a bender entrusted with his position by the Fire Lord himself are true, anyone who says they got raped by him deserved it for not being good enough to fight him off. Who spread these lies, brother? Who did you kill him to protect?"

"It doesn't matter," Misao says. "I would have done it for anyone. Just like Mom would have done it for you."

Azula's eyes widen. It's slight, but when Misao sees it she knows she's pieced together the true story of that night. She lets a smirk grow on her face.

 _What are you talking about?_ Zuko demands, and Misao doesn't bother responding. Zuko will figure it out soon enough.

"What are you talking about--" Azula begins derisively.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Misao interrupts softly, allowing a hint of taunting to colour her voice. The way Azula quiets to listen to her just further proves what she already knows; Grandfather ordered Father to kill _her_ , not Zuko. "As if I'd believe Dad would have let her kill him just for me, as if the risk would be worth it to him for the sake of a practically worthless firstborn disappointment. She still would have tried."

Whispers from outside the door. The Avatar and his merry band are listening in, then.

Azula's face hardens.

"Well, I suppose I should thank you for admitting to it so courteously. You've really made my job a lot easier. Traitor."

_I'm not--_

_Do you want her to kill Uncle instead?_ Misao challenges, cutting across Zuko's denial.

_...No._

"You know, I almost feel sorry for you, Zula," Misao says. She watches Azula's fist clench, and focuses on her breath. Steady, steady. Not the way Zuko breathes, not like a dance. Like a tiger-viper, coiled to pounce. "You think that when bad things happen, people deserve them. Because it means you deserve better. What are you going to think of yourself when something bad happens to you?"

Azula is breathing the same way, Misao notes, only she's a lot better at it.

"Nothing is going to happen to me," Azula says. "I'm not weak like you are, like Mom wanted me to be--"

"I know," Misao says, and she feels Azula falter, feels the way her inner flame flickers for only a moment. "Of course you aren't weak. But bad things happen to strong people. I want you to remember that, Azula. Whatever you get out of this conversation, you have to remember that I said that."

Azula is glaring.

"If something bad happens it means you couldn't stop it," she snaps. "If Zhao touched you--"

and Misao is done talking. Done trying to save herself-- not herself, her enemy, her _sister_ \-- from herself. She attacks, and watches the reflection of blue fire in Azula's widening eyes.

And pulls her hand aside at the last second, burning a scar into the wall beside Azula's head.

"You couldn't have stopped that," she taunts. " _I_ stopped it, because I _am_ strong and I don't need to make something bad happen to you just to prove it."

But Azula is smirking.

 _You told her,_ Zuko says, voice hollow, and Misao's stomach sinks as Azula laughs, not even bothering to shove her away. _You gave it away just like that_.

"So he did touch you."

And Misao understands something. The blue fire came when she was angry, when she was so mad it had all the fuel it needed; she wasn't keeping anything steady on purpose, but her anger steadied her and the fire burned blue.

"Oh," she says, horrified. "What happened to _you?_ "

Azula's face twists.

"Don't pity me!"

"I couldn't," Zuko says, taking a step back. "Not anymore. Not after everything."

Azula is glaring.

"Liar."

Zuko raises an eyebrow at her, and she looks away, face flushing pink. It almost makes her look like his sister again.

"What did they do to you while I was gone?" he demands, keeping his voice rough so she won't feel threatened.

"Father loves me," Azula says, and Zuko realises in a flash of intuition that, yes, Azula lies, but mostly, Azula lies to herself.

"He loves me too," Zuko says, beginning to question it now for the first time in his life. His words make Azula clench her jaw. "Why else would he bother to correct me? Why else--"

And that's fire, hotter than heat, brighter than sunlight, bluer than the ocean of ice further South. Bluer than anything Misao has been able to summon. Zuko ducks his sister's flame blast, and breathes in long enough to make it feel right, rocking forwards on his toes and spinning to send fire towards his sister.

( _Why is she so much better at it than me?_ Misao wonders.)

His sister, who he promised to protect, he doesn't want to fight her--

"What _is_ this?" Azula says, and he turns back around to see his fire in her hands, blazing into nothing and being replaced with blue.

She caught it. She _caught_ his fire, and if she can just catch it like that, then Uncle isn't helping him at all, is just placating him with an illusion of progress in a traitor's style that he probably invented just to keep his fool nephew under control.

"I didn't kill Zhao," he spits, so angry his pulse roars in his ears and he can feel every single beat of his heart. "Uncle did."

 _Idiot,_ Misao snaps at him. _You idiot, Zuzu, that wasn't Uncle's fault. That was you. You let her catch it because you don't want to hurt her, stupid._

All flame is gone, and Azula is standing straight.

"I thought so," she says, smooth and sinister. "I knew you didn't have what it took. Thank you for your cooperation."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments fuel me, pls nurture my creative spirit


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